


The Stars in Their Eyes

by Awnjay



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Asshole Dean!, Blow Jobs, Bottom Dean, Brief mention of polyamorous relationship, Brief mention of substance use, F/F, First Times, Gay Sex, M/M, NaNoWriMo 2016, Psycho ex boyfriend, Texas boys, Top Sam, Torture, Unbeta'd, british writer, forgive me for any errors!, mention of body harm, unedited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-01-30 10:46:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 52
Words: 70,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12652059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Awnjay/pseuds/Awnjay





	1. Chapter 1

Sam stares down at the hot mug of coffee in his hand, watching the thin tendrils of steam curl up and vaporise before him. The monitor before him flickers with text, cursor blinking steadily. He's supposed to be writing, well, getting ahead in class before the semester starts, but he can't clear his mind. Can't focus, and damn it's driving him insane.

It's only the night before and he supposes that he should be making the most of his freedom, no matter how temporary it is. Charlie and Jess aren't going to wait for him forever, that much he does know. He scrubs a hand over his face and glances at the time on his laptop, before abandoning his desk.

As if on cue, the girls, his roommates, come barging in, laughing happily and brandishing a bottle of what appears to be wine. Sam chuckles at the sight and straightens from his chair.

"Started the party without me already? Some friends you are!" He jokes teasingly, easily swiping the bottle from Charlie's grip. While Rosé is not his thing, he does appreciate the taste now and then.

"We were celebrating your announcement; took you long enough, by the way." Jess counters, leaning up to press an innocent kiss to Sam's cheek, though he has to stoop to help her.

"Yeah well, what can I say? Letting out the secret that I'm gay, isn't something I can keep springing on you." He takes a hearty pull of the floral tasting wine, feeling his heart swell with affection for them both. "I am eternally grateful for your guy's support. Means a lot to me." He's determined not to cry, fighting the prickle building in his eyes.

"Aww, Sammy!" Charlie croons softly, pulling him in for a tight hug, which Jess joins in on. "Come on, why aren't you dressed up yet? We want to take you out!"

"Alright. Let me find something to wear.." He complains softly, though there's no intended bite. He disentangles himself from their loose hold to rummage in his wardrobe.

"Please tell me, you aren't going to wear a flannel shirt to a gay bar! Sam, you need to look sophisticated!" Jess scampers after him, prying away the wine, which she promptly hands to Charlie. "C'mon, strip and I'll pick out an outfit for you." Sam lets out a hesitant groan but steps away nonetheless.

He's pretty much used to their company, given any state of undress, so it isn't awkward in the slightest. Once down to his boxers, no socks, given Charlie's glare over the stripy material. He supposes that he's lucky they haven't decided to choose his underwear too.

Once they've both dictated Sam's attire, he dresses quickly to save any chance at a sudden change of heart. A pair of dark grey tailored jeans, plain black socks, and a crimson dress shirt. He opts out for a jacket, seeing as its quite warm already for the current time of year, and slips on his tan coloured brogues.

With a cheer of delight, his friends deem him worthy enough for a quick pull of pink wine, before they hurriedly tug him out of his bedroom.

There's a gay bar just off of campus, about a fifteen minute walk from their dorm, which is exceptionally lucky, given the sheer size of Stanford. Had they been any further out, Sam would have called an Uber, or borrowed a rickshaw from the bicycle hire department.

The walk is pleasant enough, with them passing many other students who seem to have a similar idea on how to spend their night. Judging from a few, drinking had already commenced in their dormitories long before they emerged outside.

It doesn't take them long to reach the suggestively-named 'Sausage Factory', much to Charlie's giggles of amusement, which has Sam internally cringing at such a word choice, but beggars can't be choosers.

Once inside, the trio make a beeline to the bar; Sam politely inquires that they get him a whiskey while he searches for a table, feeling self-conscious at the all the looks he's receiving. To come out is one thing, but to actually have real attention is another.

Of course, looking is a hard task for some people, as Sam finds out. There's a few catcalls and a few casual brushes as he passes party-goers, which is enough to get his heart pounding, and cheeks burning hot.

The girls join him what feels to be lifetimes later, though in reality, it's only been a couple of minutes.

"Are you okay, Sam?" Jess asks concernedly, leaning in to be heard over the steady pulse of bass and treble. She rests a hand on his forearm, grounding him to the here and now.

Taking a quick gulp of whiskey, he savours the warming burn from the amber liquid as it slides smoothly down his throat. "Just didn't ever think I'd be in this situation. Thought I'd be living a lie all my life, y'know?"

"Sammy, it takes a lot of guts to do something like you did. We know it isn't easy sharing something so personal, but we're proud of you. Don't ever forget that." Charlie scoots closer to reassure him.

"I don't know what I'd do without you guys..." He smiles warmly, feeling his bottom lip tremble with the overwhelming urge to cry.

"We'd be lost without you, Sam. Now come on, loosen up a little, and then we're gonna hit the dance floor!" Jess takes a sip of her cocktail: no doubt named something vulgar, Sam briefly ponders, taking another sip from his tumbler.

Charlie looks ready to dance already, practically draining her glass in three eager swallows, thrumming with energy as she waits for them to knock back their drinks. Sam drains his glass in one enormous gulp, throat delightfully ablaze. Jess is soon to follow, and they hurry to find space on the glittering black dance floor.

The music is something Sam has vaguely heard before, so he has no trouble finding the rhythm to sway to. Bodies soon crowd in around them, seeming to redouble their efforts to dance the night away. Sam even finds himself pressed up to a handsome young man: classic heartthrob, dark hair, blue eyes.

He's shorter than Sam, most people are, but dances confidently, not allowing himself to be jostled away in the slightest. His smile is reassuring and Sam presses a little closer, tentatively resting his hands on the stranger's waist.

"Do you come here often?" Sam has to lean down to hear him properly, stomach flipping with breathless excitement.

"My first time, actually!" He replies, barely able to hear over the steady pulse of music. "I came out today!"

The man seems to be pleased at Sam's announcement. "Congratulations! Here's to living life to the full!" The music seems to let down a little, which Sam is thankful for. "Can I buy you another drink?"

Sam's mouth is dry, heart pounding with a mixture of anxiety and nerves. "Please? I'll come with you." He turns to part his way through the crowd, jumping a little at the stray hands that seem to find his ass. His cheeks are burning by the time they reach the bar, where it's blessedly quieter.

The brunet climbs aboard one of the bar stools and orders two whiskies, after prompting Sam for his choice, and lets his legs dangle in mid air. Sam doubts the stool would be strong enough for his build, so decides to lean against the bar.

"I'm Castiel," He offer his hand out for a shake, which Sam promptly does. "I'm sorry for being so cliché." Cas chuckles, reaching for their drinks.

"Sam." He returns, taking his glass from Castiel, sipping at the amber liquid. "Thank you for being genuinely friendly. This whole thing has been kind of daunting." He waves his free hand about in a general gesture.

The brunet chuckles, a deep, gravelly sort of sound, and sips his own drink. Sam wonders what kind of singing voice the man would have. "Well, if it helps, you've been incredibly brave just to get where you are now. There's no time stamp on these sort of things."

Sam ponders that over, staring down into the depths of his glass. This is the most comfortable he's felt in a long while, and things definitely seem to be looking up. "Thank you again." He offers Castiel a soft dimpled smile.

"Someone has to look out for the new guy. You studying at Stanford by any chance?" Blue eyes pull at Sam's attention.

"Yeah, Law and English." Sam admits, idly swirling the contents of his glass. His cheeks are a little warm, though the feeling is not unpleasant.

"Multitasking? That's some dedication you've got there, Sam." Cas grins, turning in his seat to watch the taller man.

Sam nods, unable to stop the answering grin spreading on his lips. "If one doesn't work out, I always have the other to fall back upon, and English is a huge factor within most careers." He'd always dreamt of doing something that combines the two, but he's got plenty of time to discover himself.

"I wish you all the best, Sam. Though I'm sure you'll be more than capable." 

The pair are startled by two very enthusiastic, very loud squeals of delight. "You'll have to excuse the harpy twins." He jokes, receiving a soft cuff around the head from Charlie.

"Aren't you going to introduce us to your new handsome friend?" Jess giggles, practically hanging on Sam's arm.

"Cas, this is Jess-" He indicates to the lively blonde trying to pull him over. "and this is Charlie. Ladies, meet Castiel." The redhead hops up on a stool beside Cas, ordering them all another round of drinks.

"Go easy already! I have a lecture tomorrow." Sam complains, still eager to drink his current glass. 

The rest of the night seems to go by in a blur, with numbers being exchanged and the promise to hang out sometime. Sam and the girls walk back to their dorm in a giddy haze.


	2. Chapter 2

Morning seems to come too soon, and Sam drags himself out of bed upon the ring of his alarm clock. No hangover, thank the gods, though his mouth does taste of cotton wool.

Fifteen minutes in the shower is enough to bring Sam out of the remnants of his slumber, and he heads back to his room to get dressed. 

Once suitably clothed, he heads into lounge space, grinning at the huge bowl of cereal left out for him. There's even a pot of freshly brewed coffee waiting. Sam decides that he has the world's best friends, and checks his watch before tucking into breakfast.

Charlie will have already headed out to the campus's computer labs to get a head start on her project. Sam wonders how she manages to get a hold of the syllabus, but then soon abandons the thought. Charlie is pretty skilled, and he's willing to bet good money that she's hacked the uni's mainframe or something..

He makes it to his lecture in record time, settling down near the front, despite how nerdy it seems, and unpacks his laptop. There's a general hubbub of curious students, though the noise doesn't reach ear splitting levels.

The door opens and heavy footsteps strike through the noise. They'd been notified of a new lecturer this semester, Sam didn't know whether to laugh with delight at the thought of having a new mind to encourage him, or to hide away with nerves at the idea of things being different.

The man turns to greet them, and Sam's heart thuds in his chest. Dark hair mixed with salt and pepper highlights, and the most grizzled yet attractive beard Sam has ever seen. Sam could swoon at the sight, but then he'd miss out on taking notes.

A pair of black plastic glasses hang from the charcoal wool of his Professor's turtleneck, and Sam almost groans at the sex appeal radiating from this Silver Fox.

"Good morning class! My name is John Winchester, and I'll be your Professor for this semester. I hope that we can all have a great time, without getting too out of hand." He flashes a winning grin that makes Sam's knees wobble.

Thankfully, ninety minutes go without a hitch. Sam is packing his things away when he is approached by Professor Winchester.

"May I call you Sam?" That charming smile greets Sam warmly, and the younger man has to mentally shake himself in order to respond with a brief handshake.

"I have been notified by good authority that you are a very intelligent young man, and I was wondering if you would do me a favour?" John's deep voice is oddly soothing. Sam wouldn't mind some bedtime stories...

"What did you have in mind, Professor?" Sam fastens up his rucksack and slings it over one shoulder. It's easy to feel relaxed with this man's company. This semester should be a breeze.

"I heard that you tutor students in your free time. I was wondering if you would like to tutor my son? He has been living the frat boy lifestyle recently and his grades have dropped further than I'd have liked.." John purses his lips in distaste, before continuing. "I would pay you for each session. How does $70 a go sound?"

Sam's jaw drops in mild shock and he hurries to close it. "That would be brilliant, Professor, but I'd need a set schedule what with two courses.."

"That's perfectly fine. Shall I email you later regarding the details?" John is as smooth as butter, Sam doesn't doubt that.

"Alright. Thank you again." Sam grins, jotting down his email before heading out to find Charlie for a quick breather.


	3. Chapter 3

Charlie tugs him over to the nearest table, books and papers scattered over its length. "Has Christmas come early, Sammy?" He sits down with her, automatically shuffling the papers into a neat stack.

"My new Professor has asked me to tutor his son." He whispers quietly, eyes not meeting hers as he fiddles with a folded page. Charlie practically knew everything about Sam, the pair were inseparable.

"Holy crap, Sam! You're not panicking on me now, you can do this." She reaches out to still his fidgeting hands, fingers soothing over his knuckles. "Don't tell me that you're hot for teacher now?" She giggles playfully.

"I don't know if I can do this.. What if his son is a complete douchebag?"

Charlie snickers and keys something in onto her laptop. "That's for his dad to deal with. It's your job to teach him regardless of his behaviour. Besides, everyone likes you."

Sam snorts and tries to get a peek at her screen, but is quickly shooed away. "No, you and Jess like me. That isn't everyone."

"And Castiel!" She adds, grinning widely at him from over the top of her laptop. "Are you gonna give him a call later?"

"Are you trying to get me out of your way? If so, it isn't working. Besides, I've got to wait for an email." Sam shuffles in his seat, intent on not making eye-contact.

Charlie coos excitedly, furiously typing something on the keyboard. "If I wanted you gone, I'd have just come out with it. You want a coffee?"

Sam shakes his head, slumping down on the table to rest a cheek against the smooth wood. "Just gonna take a quick nap.. Wake me if I get an email?" Charlie makes a humming sound. Sam doesn't press the matter, simply closes his eyes and lets the click click of keys send him into a doze.


	4. Chapter 4

Later, when Sam has nervously scarfed down a bowl of chicken soup, he makes his way to the address that John has given him. He anxiously hopes that this Dean isn't majorly stuck up, and that things go smoother than anticipated.

He climbs the porch stairs, wipes his sweaty palms on the front of his thighs and rings the doorbell. He doesn't expect Castiel to answer the door: a mixture of delight and disappointment flood him. There are various theories whirling around his head, but he chooses to ignore them.

"I'm looking for Dean Winchester? I'm his new tutor.." Sam hates the way his voice quakes with nerves, though Castiel's smile puts him at ease.

"Come on in. He's currently gorging on food in the kitchen. Now's the best time to catch him." Cas sounds almost mischievous, Sam quite likes it. He follows the brunet down the hallway and into the dorm kitchen.

Sam imagines a slightly chubby dropout, but who he comes face to face with takes him completely by surprise.

Dean looks as though he could be the son of James Dean and a young Clint Eastwood, and the sight makes Sam's heart ache. Drop dead gorgeous. Tall, but still shorter than Sam by three inches give or take. 

"Dean, this is Sam, your tutor." Cas introduces, grinning at Dean's obvious reluctance to participate.

Dean simply groans and rubs his temples with long slender fingers, free hand bracing himself on the desk. Sam tracks the gentle curve of spine, tight forearms and bulging biceps. He licks his lips and looks some more. Dean's obscenely pink lips are parted slightly, looking so plump and soft that Sam yearns to feel them, to taste them with his tongue, to have them wrapped around his-... He blinks away that thought, aware of a growing need building in his boxers.

Dean finishes the slice of what appears to be cherry pie, lips stained dark red and glistening. Sam's breathing is a little shallow, and he swallows thickly in an attempt to force away the lump in his throat.

"Shall I wait in the lounge for you?" Sam glances to Cas for help, seeing the brunet give him an encouraging smile. He follows Castiel once more, settling down on the blue fabric couch, heart hammering nervously.

Cas settles down in a rather worn armchair, content to read a biology textbook, though he does occasionally glance to Sam.

Dean eventually wanders through with three cans of beer, plopping down on the couch beside Sam. He offers one and throws the other to Cas.

"Where's your textbooks?" Sam asks, frowning in disapproval at Dean's decision to drink so early. Dean merely rolls his eyes and opens his can, taking an unhurried gulp of cold Budweiser. 

"In my room." Is Dean's calm, almost neutral reply, which seems to irritate the shit out of Sam. The handsome young man continues drinking, lazily reaching for the TV remote.

"Then you'd better go get them." Sam replies firmly, trying his hardest to keep his anger at bay. There's one thing he can't stand, and that's time wasters.

Dean laughs loudly, sarcastic and mocking, choosing to turn the volume up instead. Sam glances to Cas for support and is happy to see the man get up to unplug the television, much to Dean's dismay.

"Dude, I was fucking watching that!" Dean cries out as though deeply offended, gulping down his beer as though to avoid the situation.

"Tough shit, Dean! It's /one/ hour out of your time. Anyone would think that I'm torturing you!" Sam is fast losing his patience. "Now /please/, would you go and bring your books?" He runs a hand through his hair, feeling the tension bubble in his veins.

Dean arches an eyebrow, but concedes defeat for now, hauling his ass off of the couch, to slink out of the room. Judging by the loud stomping on the stairs and floorboards above, the young adult is clearly sulking.

"What's the matter with him?" Sam crows in disbelief, deciding that he's going to need a damn drink to settle his frayed nerves.

"Daddy issues, I guess." Cas shrugs, quickly hiding the remote should Dean redouble his efforts. "He doesn't take well to authority, but you've managed to break through that first hard layer."

How many does he have?! Sam thinks to himself, sipping the smooth tasting beer, wondering if he'd made an absolute idiot of himself. Still, he's doing this because his Professor asked him to.

Dean renters the room with his books, dropping them onto the coffee table with a hard thump of paperback. "Am I alright to drink my beer?" He asks, tone a little waspish, but the fire seems to have dwindled.

"That's fine, Dean. Just don't hate me because you're struggling with English. I'm here to help you. Make things a little easier." Sam opens one of the textbooks and grabs a notepad from the messy stack.

Dean seems to reluctantly lean in then, slowly taking more notice as his attention fixes on Sam. "Right, I am going to write you a course of action; a plan if you like. This will make things a little easier when it comes to writing essay and the like. Don't worry about the hard stuff right now, I'll explain everything in detail."

The rest of the hour goes thankfully without a hitch, having gotten Dean to fully relax, instead of put up a protective front. Perhaps from spending too much time within the wrong crowd, Sam muses as he leaves the dorm to walk back to his own.

The journey is filled with silent observation, a review of what could have been said, or done to make the process go more smoothly. Still, Sam decided they were on the right track now. It was clear that Dean had his insecurities, felt the pressure from wanting to please his Professor father. Though all of that could just be misreading, Sam was no psychiatrist.

He unlocks the front door and climbs the stairs to their unit, letting himself in with a sigh of relief. Too tired to do much else, Sam calls it an early night and slumps on the couch to watch TV for a few hours before bed.


	5. Chapter 5

The muscled body twists beneath him, hot and slick with sweat, cropped light brown hair damp and sticking to his skull. His back is firm, bunching and arching with desire, slender fingers gripping the dark sheets beneath them, knuckles whitening. Sam's hands wander lower, fingertips trailing over the ridges of the man's spine, caressing the dip in the small of the back. He has to rock back onto his knees to reach further, hazel eyes falling upon firm rounded globes, so tight he could bounce a quarter off of them.

Understanding jolts through Sam's body as he becomes aware of their current position, buried halfway inside this sprawling, groaning mess of a man, large hands kneading the flesh as he takes a good look. Perfectly proud of his thick cock and the way those ass cheeks clench and suck him back in.

The gravelly voice urges him to move again, rough and desperate with arousal, and Sam complies with a hard jab, blanketing his broad frame over the firm back, renewing those sinful groans that bring shivers down his spine.

He's lost in the rhythm, the push and pull of hot bodies, moans that echo within his eardrums, the taste of salt and musk beneath his lips, the scent of cologne hot and spicy in his nostrils, and startling green eyes that have him unravelling with a huge crash of delight.

Sam is startled out of his sleep by the loud incessant ring of his cell phone. He groans quietly, blinking back the remnants of his wet dream, he squints at the caller ID before answering.

"Jess, this has better be good, I'm trying to sleep here." He complains into the phone, rubbing his eyes as he valiantly battles the urge to close them once more.

Jess's voice sounds a little tinny from wherever she currently is, and Sam has to squint over at the alarm clock on the end table to check the time is suitable for wake up calls.

"You've slept long enough Sam! You don't need any more beauty sleep, you're perfect as it is." She sounds as though she's up to no good.

"Where are you calling from, a tin can?" He groans, flinging back the covers so that he can drag himself out of bed. "Give me ten minutes to hit the shower and I'll be right over."

"I'm at the coffee shop with Castiel actually! So hurry on down, we've got you some breakfast."

Sam's stomach does an awkward sort of flip flop, feeling a sense of dread wash over him. What if it was about last night's tutor session? He hurriedly says goodbye to Jess and hangs up, before grabbing some clean clothes to take into the bathroom.

Sam dwells on the last dream, hands bracing himself against the tiles as he replays the images in his mind. It felt so real, having Dean underneath him; all hot and sticky, begging for his release, for Sam's attention. It was a far cry from the attention he was receiving now. He'd never felt more lonely, but he doubted that any sort of relationship could come from tutoring Dean. He just didn't seem like he'd be interested, and Sam wasn't even sure if the man was actually gay.

He figures that he's still got enough time to rub one out, if he jogs on the way to the café. Jess won't mind if he's a couple of minutes late.

He leans against the cool tiles, hot spray of water beating down on his chest, eyes slipping closed as he lathers up a hand, imagining that kissable pink mouth. So perfect, he thinks, stroking over his eagerly awaking arousal.

He can almost picture Dean on his knees, hair wet and plastered to his skull, beads of water dripping from those thick eyelashes, pink lips darkened and bruised from heavy kissing. Sam would crush that mouth to his first, roughly push his tongue in and taste every inch of soft, velvet heat, strong fingers burying themselves into the firm meat of Dean's ass, kneading and squeezing, pulling the slightly shorter man flush against his own body, give him a feel of that heavy cock.

The thoughts alone make Sam shiver with delight, hand wrapping loosely around the girth, pumping slowly, twisting the crown on the upstroke, thumb rubbing the prominent vein underneath. He hisses through clenched teeth, lightly squeezing the thick head, thighs braced.

He'd push Dean roughly to his knees, rub his cock into the arrogant prat's face, smear those cheekbones with precome, swipe the tip over dark lips, hands in Dean's hair, slowly feeding his cock into that gorgeous mouth, make the man take him all the way.

Sam grunts and thumbs over his slit, smearing drops of pearlescent fluid over hard velvet skin. It's been months since he's had anyone, and the need is real, hand pumping harder, faster, stripping his length frantically.

His keening moans bounce off the tiled walls, hot water dampening the sound somewhat. He manages to turn around, forearm bracing himself against the wall, thighs trembling as he ruts desperately into his hand, breathing harsh and quick.

"Fuck, Dean. Suck me harder, you little slut!" Sam growls, hot water raining down on his back, heat curling in the base of his spine. His eyes are screwed tightly shut, world narrowed into this one significant moment, heart pounding so hard in his ears he feels faint.

His climax burns through him, body bucking and straining after his hand as he milks out every last drop, panting for his breath, mesmerised by those green eyes he adores so much. Slumping against the tiles, he presses his forehead to the cold surface, gasping like a fish out of water, thighs trembling. 

He peeks from under heavy lids, seeing his seed painted on the tiles before him, slowly swaying back to let the jet wash it off and down the plug hole. It's a quick wash clean and he's back out, fluffy blue towel wrapped around his waist.

He dresses in double-quick time, locking up behind him before jogging the usually fifteen minute journey, managing to shave off five minutes.

Panting lightly for breath, he pushes open the café door and slowly makes his way over to where his friends are waiting. Jess gives a little wave as he approaches, but he does a double-take at seeing his new crush, however much a douchebag Dean Winchester seems to be.

Castiel looks almost apologetic sat on the bench seat beside Jess, which leaves a space beside Dean, much to Sam's mixed feelings of delight and horror. 

Sliding beside Dean, Sam has the briefest glimpse of startling green eyes and a scattering of freckles. Dean even offers a rueful smile before quietly apologising for las night's behaviour. Sam can't help but feel that he's been set up.

"So, I came here on the pretence of breakfast..?" Sam looks expectantly at Jess, who giggles fondly at him. Sam sees no sustenance besides a large mug of coffee waiting for him.

"Dean ate it, if that helps?" She offers, still grinning widely at him. It doesn't help in the slightest, Sam thinks, sulking at the loss of a meal.

"You were taking too long!" Dean counters, hiding the muffin wrapper from Sam's direct line of sight. 

"You bought me a muffin?! It better had been chocolate." He retorts, feigning deep hurt.

"We bought you a fried breakfast instead." Cas slides the coffee over as a peace offering. "It's just taking time to cook."

Sam's pout soon grows into a full dimpled smile. "Aww thanks guys. You're the greatest!" The cheeky git.

Sam's second breakfast turns up shortly, much to his delight, and he immediately tucks in. Dean sees this as an opportunity to steal a sausage from the plate, wincing at the heat as he attempts to hold the food between his thumb and forefinger.

Sam stares in protest, chewing his mouthful of baked beans, hazel eyes fixated on the sausage. Dean flashes a grin and blows on the meat before taking a hesitant bite.

Dean is more gorgeous than he had first thought; dark grey jeans accentuated long bow legs, no doubt showcased Dean's beautifully round ass. A slightly faded band tee moulded itself against a firmly muscled chest, worn leather jacket pronounced strong shoulders and bulging biceps. Sam's mouth is dry, fork held loosely between numb fingers.

A soft cough startles Sam out of his silent reverie. He'd obviously been caught blatantly staring at Dean. Cheeks burning, he hurriedly glances away, eyes fixated on his breakfast.

Jess lets out a soft titter of laughter, which makes Sam lift his head to look at her. Her smile is genuine, though a little knowing, Sam is sure that there will be a discussion about this later, for which he'd quite happily spill his guts.

A little nervous about how Dean is reacting to this, Sam doesn't glance his way. "You gonna eat all that?" Is Dean's sudden question, poised with a fork in an attempt to steal yet another sausage. Sam laughs, relieved, pushing the plate over slightly to share his food.

Sam's breakfast doesn't take much longer to devour, what with two hungry mouths. It's a little weird, two people sharing one meal, but Sam doesn't mind at all.

They soon venture outside, meandering down one of the many paths. It just feels so nice to stretch his legs, Sam muses, taking in the scenery as they head to the park. Students are chatting happily, some sunbathing on the grass, others playing frisbee, a few lazily tossing a football around. Sam savours the relaxed setting and follows his companions over to sit by the lake.

The morning dwindles by, with the afternoon getting steadily hotter. Jess and Cas head off to grab them all an icecream, leaving Sam alone with Dean. 

"So..." He clears his throat awkwardly, leaning back against the tree they're currently taking residence under, Dean is laid on his back a short distance away. "Did you enjoy eating my food earlier?" He jokes nervously, watching Dean's sculpted lips twitch up into a smirk.

"It was so nice of you to share, man. Cas doesn't like to, at all." Dean rolls over to sit up, mousy brown hair a dishevelled mess from where he'd been laying on it.

"Usually I don't.. Need all the calories I can get." Sam replies, hoping his gaze is subtle, most likely not. "But if you're ever down to hang out, I'll make sure to stock up on snacks."

Dean's pleased grin is brighter than any burst of sunshine, and Sam's heart catches in his throat. Man, he's a goner already. He keeps forgetting that he's being paid to tutor this apparent rebel.


	6. Chapter 6

The afternoon passes comfortably, with Sam and Dean somehow getting involved with a water fight that consists of nearly twenty people. It's chaos, completely hectic and ear splitting, but it's the most fun Sam has had in ages. Heck, he'd even managed to wipe the smirk off of Dean's face.

The four parted ways, leaving Sam and Jess to head back to their own dorm to change clothes. Sam is timing how long it takes Jess to begin the questioning. Ten minutes so far.

The night is beginning to draw close around them, Charlie will be in their lounge by now, sat watching some overplayed boxset on Sam's Xbox. According to Charlie, there wasn't anything better than getting your hands on something real, rather than digital.

Sam wonders if she's referring to porn.. Best not ponder about it too much..

"We're home!" Sam calls out as they enter, allowing Jess to pass before securely closing the door behind him. He kicks out of his sneakers and pads past her, desperate to get out of his sodden clothes.

In the sanctuary of his own room, Sam divests himself of his clothes, after locking his door of course, and idly stands before the full length mirror on is wardrobe. He checks himself out self consciously, a thin frown on his handsome features. Not that he'd ever call himself handsome.

He's slowly gaining muscle, though he still looks too lanky for his body. Nothing happens magically overnight, but Sam desperately wants it to. What if Dean isn't remotely interested? He's jumping to conclusions here. A chat with his best girls, is what Sam really needs. A chance to get everything out and to hear their honest opinions.

He tears his eyes away from the mirror and opens his bedside drawer to find clean boxers, trying to distract his over-active brain. Pulling on soft, well-worn pyjama pants, he searches for an old tee-shirt; neck stretched and out of shape. It's due for the trash, but he just can't bear to throw it out.


	7. Chapter 7

Wednesday is fairly uneventful, with Sam working at his part time job in a library. Thursday is his English lecture, where he finds himself sat next to Dean. Ninety minutes seem to blur by, with Sam taking notes, and Dean doodling on a notepad.

It seems as though Dean is unwilling to focus on applying himself, and while Sam would like to nag him into paying attention, it would only serve to cause a scene. He's fairly sure that he'll be receiving another email from John Winchester later.

"Can I help you with something?" Dean cuts through his train of thought like a shard of glass. Sam flinches back as though burned, hastily blinking away the mental image.

"I'm not doing anything dude.." Sam replies, voice quiet and hesitant; he can't keep his eyes off Dean's body, and he knows that he'll be caught. He should feel ashamed really, because this finely groomed specimen is so far out of his league it's depressing. That and he's likely to get his ass beat up.

Dean whirls to leave before Sam can protest, a pang of rejection knifing in his gut, and damn, does it hurt.

He's left on his own, discomfort sitting heavy within him, skin feeling far too tight. He feels sick and useless, bones rubbing all the wrong way, crushed and disappointed. He can't help but be pulled to this man though. There's just something that resonates deep within his soul. Something he can't quite pin his finger on.

It doesn't matter anyhow. If he focuses entirely on this tutoring, then the allure to Dean will be forgotten about. He hopes so... He sighs slowly, feeling the tension burn through him. It's going to be a long semester...


	8. Chapter 8

Trudging back to his dorm, Sam wants nothing more than hiding in his bedroom and the chance to bawl his fucking eyes out. He'd always been an emotional guy, needed constant reassurance in comforting hugs or words of praise. His family didn't mind in the slightest, even encouraged this soft, yet strong nature.

His granddaddy had taught him how to fight his way out of a corner, to apply logic where it was needed. To study your opponent, see his moves before he acted. Sam kinda felt that his grandfather wanted him to be a boxer...

He smiles at the thought, despite the pricking in his eyes, and walks in harsh, stomping strides. Any student foolish enough to stand in the way, soon made a hasty exit.

Sam didn't like to throw his fists around, rather preferred to do one better, and argue the case. The mind needed to be sharper than the muscles. Heck, he was a good boy; wanted to make his mama proud. His grandma too.

Once inside, Sam locks the door behind him, toes off his shoes and ambles towards the lounge, socked feet rasping quietly against the plush white rug. He pulls his satchel off of his shoulder, sits down and pulls out his notebook, intending to read through the notes he'd made earlier.

There's a soft meow from nearby, a white fluffy mass of fur sat by his feet. The daintiest of paws reaches out to tap Sam's foot, curious blue eyes fixed on his hands. Sam laughs softly and lifts his notebook out of the way, allowing the Persian to jump neatly into his lap. He's rewarded by gentle purring as the aptly named 'Mr. Fizzles' curls up on his thighs.

Back to reading, one hand stroking through soft fur, the other propped under his chin as he reads; notebook now resting on the arm of his chair. The room is warm and cosy, the central heating having come on an hour before his lecture finished. The regular two beat of the clock on the wall lulls him into a light doze.


	9. Chapter 9

"Sam, honey. If you're tired, you should go to bed." Jess' tender voice pulls him into consciousness, her hand strokes lovingly through his hair. Sam reluctantly opens his eyes a fraction, peering at her from heavy lids.

"I'll have a coffee." He replies, forcing himself to wake up properly. There's concern written all over the blonde's face, and it makes him feel guilty just to see her this way.

"Is something wrong, Sam?" She perches on the arm of his chair, palm reaching out to press against his forehead. "Sweetie, you're a little warm, do you feel sick?"

Sam shakes his head. "More nauseous with worry.." He then goes on to tell her about the whole thing, stomach cramping by the end of it. He's skipped meals today, hasn't had the energy to even consider eating.

Jess is a sympathetic listener, turning to smile at Charlie, who has made them all coffee. Sam didn't even realise the redhead had entered the lounge. "Why don't you cuddle with us on the couch, honey? We'll put on a Sandra Bullock film and you can have all the salted popcorn you want." She coaxes, taking Charlie's hand as she stands.

Sam watches them both adoringly, wondering how on earth he'd managed to find such brilliant friends. "I love you guys." He admits, rising out of his seat to follow Charlie to the couch.

"We know, babe." Charlie coos, flopping down in a corner, pulling Sam with her. "We love you too." 

They decide to watch Miss Congeniality. Charlie jokes that Sam would make a great Gracie-Lou Freebush, what with his long legs and never-ending appetite. Jess giggles and comments how she'd love to get him into a dress. Sam merely grumbles softly and munches on his hot popcorn.

When the movie finishes, they simply put on another, determined to keep Sam distracted. Anything to keep him happy.

"Maybe you should give Cas a ring sometime? You know, go on a date?" Charlie suggests, pouring them another mug of coffee each.

Sam thinks it over, chewing his current mouthful, hazel eyes briefly glimpsing Jess's hand sneak into the bag. He chuckles and squeezes the bag shut around her hand, making her squeal in shock.

"Sam! That was mean!" Jess chides playfully, managing to free her hand. "Be nice, or we won't put The Proposal on next.

"We both know that'll break his heart! Denying Sammy the chance to see his Canadian heartthrob!" Charlie teases. Jess giggles and pops some popcorn onto her mouth.

It's two AM before they all turn in for the night, with Sam sending a text to Cas to meet up tomorrow night. Excited, he settles in his bed, thinking about the dark haired man instead of Dean for once.


	10. Chapter 10

Friday day seems to take forever, much to Sam's dismay. Charlie ropes him into helping her with a project. Knitting... It's certainly something he hasn't tried before, but Charlie is a good teacher and it doesn't take him long to pick the basics up.

He's busy knitting a practice square when a husky voice softly greets his right ear. There's a scent burst of aftershave: dark, rich and earthy. Sam's heart pounds nervously in his chest and he hurriedly sits up straighter, craning to see the owner of the voice.

"Castiel! What time is it? Please don't tell me I've missed our date?" He frantically glances at the clock on the wall opposite and lets out a sigh of relief.

"There's plenty of time yet. I came to see how you were." Cas pulls out a chair and sits down beside Sam. "Oh, you're knitting? How wonderful!" Sam can't believe how genuinely delighted Castiel sounds.

"Just practicing. Eventually I'll try making some beanies or something." Sam shyly admits, turning his attention to bright blue eyes. 

"That's always a good start! It's good to have hobbies, Sam." The man reaches out to finger the wool, clearly resting the softness. "My sister knits, perhaps I could get her to send some different colours and thicknesses?"

"That'd be great, thank you." Sam almost turns to press a kiss on Castiel's cheek, but that would be weird, right? It was a breath of fresh air to have someone encourage his pursuits instead of mocking, not that Charlie and Jess weren't in his corner, but he saw Castiel as a potential boyfriend, as that was a different thing altogether.

"So where are we going tonight, or is that a surprise?" Sam asks with a grin, setting down his knitting to ease the cramp from his fingers. Cas gives him an almost tender smile, before it turns a little playful.

"Would you prefer sushi or an all-you-can-eat buffet?"

Sam laughs in mild shock, though he certainly is excited. "Are you serious? A buffet? Castiel, you are heaven-sent!"

Charlie giggles and peers over her laptop, snapping a quick photo with her phone. "You two are adorable! I'm going to send Jess a photo!"

Sam playfully rolls his eyes but doesn't argue on the matter. "Will smart-casual be okay?" He turns in his chair to properly face Cas, knee brushing against his would-be date's thigh.

Castiel seems to notice this, a hand reaching down to stroke Sam's knee in a most comforting, yet intimate manner, which gets the taller man a little hot under the collar.

"Get a room you two!" Charlie teases lightheartedly, obviously pleased at how well they seem to be getting along.

"Perhaps if I'm lucky." The dark haired brunet replies, giving Sam a little confident smirk, still rubbing Sam's knee.

Sam swallows thickly, cheeks hot, throat tight, heart pounding against his ribs. He's sure that he's blushing a similar shade to the wool he's knitting with. "Oh..Um..maybe?" He's unsure of the etiquette, having not had this kind of experience before...

Cas gives him a reassuring smile, carefully turning to face him; thighs bracketing Sam's own, effectively securing Sam in place, before leaning in to whisper huskily into his ear. "Don't worry, babe. I'll take good care of you." Sam gasps softly at the rush of electricity coursing through his veins.

He leans back in his chair, sitting at an angle so as to pay attention to them both, before directing his attention towards Charlie. "What are you working on?"

The pair become transfixed on Charlie's project, which Sam doesn't really know anything about, leaving the slightly confused, very aroused Sam to his own tumultuous thoughts. He's half determined to sneak off and sort out said problem, but Charlie would most definitely call him out on it.


	11. Chapter 11

Sam glances agitatedly down at his watch, busy pacing around the lounge. Jess and Charlie are sat on the couch, watching him with giddy delight. Sam's first proper date. With a boy. Sam inwardly groans and hopes that he doesn't majorly fuck up tonight, Castiel is way too nice to frighten off.

As usual, the girls had chosen his outfit for the night, including underwear this time. Sam was kind of mortified to say the least... Dressed in a blue argyle jumper and grey slacks, a pair of light brown formal shoes to complete the look. He certainly felt the part, but what would Castiel think of him?

Wallet and cellphone in his pocket, Sam is somewhat prepared for tonight. It's just his nerves that are getting the better of him.

"Do you need a shot of whiskey to calm your nerves?" Jess calls out to him, currently snuggled up to Charlie. Sam hasn't seen anything cuter.

"Do you think I look okay?" He halts his pacing to move Mr. Fizzles to safety. "Sorry girlie." He strokes the white cat affectionately and sets her on Charlie's knee.

"You look /fine/, Sam. Hell, Cas will be super happy to see how handsome you are!" Charlie soothes, squeezing Jess's hand. "Look at our boy, all grown up!"

Sam has the decency to blush, averting his eyes in favour to stare at the floor before he proceeds to pace again.

The knock to their door halts him in his tracks. Heart pounding like a war drum, he rushes to open the door, breathless with giddy excitement.

His date is absolutely stunning to look at: blue jeans, pale lavender dress shirt and a brown jacket. Sam's mouth practically waters at the sight. His date is even wearing cowboy boots!

"You look amazing!" Sam gushes, pulling Castiel into a tight hug. The shorter man laughs softly and pats Sam on the back.

"Likewise, Samuel. You look very cute." He winks, flashing Sam a winning smile, that has the taller man feeling a little light-headed. "Are you ready?"

"Can't wait!" He replies enthusiastically, following after his date with a brief wave to his best friends. "Don't wait up, ladies!"

"Have fun kids!" Charlie calls after them. Sam can't help but chuckle as they make their way out into the night air.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you after I left." Castiel admits, slowing the pace just to look at Sam's reaction, which must have been good, judging by Cas's heart-melting smile.

"Really? I'm so glad you used that cliché pick-up line." Sam jokes playfully, lightly bumping against his date. "I actually wanted to call you back. You know, try and start out date earlier." He shyly glances at the man, searching for some sort of comfort, but not knowing how to ask for it.

The seemingly ever observant Castiel, purposely takes ahold of Sam's hand, fingers lacing together and simply continues walking. It makes Sam's heart race and gives him butterflies in his belly. He'd never thought something so small would do such a thing.

"I hope you don't mind, but I called for an Uber to pick us up. Makes more sense than having to drive, because I'd like to have a celebratory drink with you." They come to a halt and wait for the car to arrive.

Sam leads him to sit on the bench a short distance away, keeping their hands connected, liking the way Castiel's thumb occasionally brushes tenderly across Sam's knuckles. It's reassuring and almost intimate, with the barest hint of protectiveness. Sam is very keen to keep himself by Castiel's side all night.

The driver arrives ten minutes later, and the pair slide into the backseat of the car, somehow managing to keep ahold of one another.

"Date night?" She asks with a warm smile, tuning in her seat to look at them both. "I hope you guys have a nice time!" 

Sam smiles in reply and leans carefully against Cas as the car pulls away and down the campus. "You smell nice." He murmurs into Cas's ear, leaning down to sniff his date's shirt collar.

"Thank you." He whispers in return, reaching to stroke briefly through Sam's hair. "I hope you won't be cold tonight, seeing as you didn't come out with a jacket." It's wonderfully fresh to have someone think about his needs, Sam realises.

"You're incredibly thoughtful, do you know that?"

"So I have been told. A very handsome, young man has been kind enough to inform me."

"Really? Who?"

"You, of course! How could you not think of yourself as attractive, Sam?" He can feel his cheeks heat at that one, but doesn't know how to respond. "We'll, I think you are. So you shall just have to take my word for it."

They fall into a cosy silence, with the drive taking almost half an hour, what with Friday night traffic. Soon, they arrive at Castiel's venue of choice. Sam waits on the sidewalk as his date pays, though he silently vows to pay his own way. It's only fair after all.

"Are you ready?" Cas turns to take Sam's hand again as they walk into the lobby, guiding him over to the lift that will take them up to the restaurant. "Not afraid of lifts are you? It's not a problem, we could always take the stairs."

"I'll be okay. Thank you, Cas." Sam stands a little closer as they wait for the lift to come down. "Have you been here before?"

"Never, but I've read some very good reviews." He replies, watching the number panel count down. "Wouldn't want to take you anywhere less than four starts. You deserve it."

"So do you, Cas. You're such a good guy. I really appreciate everything."

They step inside as the lift door opens, and Cas presses the button for the top floor. The doors slide closed and the lift begins it's ascent.

"Here's to many successful dates, Sam."

"Aren't we supposed to have a drink in order to propose a toast?" Sam asks with a grin, though he does wholly agree with the motion. "I'd love more. Especially ones with food!"

Catiel's laughter is infectious and Sam can't help but join in. "Rather have you eat everyone else out of house and home than me. Honestly though, I /would/ like to cook for you sometime."

"So long as I could reciprocate. Though I'm not that much of a cook. Maybe I can find something else to make you." Sam leans against the metal wall and tries not to think about every horror film he's seen involving a lift.

"Hey, if you're nervous about this. We can always get out on the next floor. I don't mind walking the rest of the way up." Cas rubs Sam's arm soothingly, aiming to distract the man.

"Just seen too many films." Sam explains, unwilling to go into anymore detail. Nothing to provoke impeding doom.

"Then perhaps you need a better distraction?" He moves to stand in front of Sam, arms bracketing his head. Sam's pulse is quick, heart in his throat as he watches Castiel lean in for a warm and gentle kiss.

Sam cradles Castiel's head in his hands, although he hasn't kissed a man before, it doesn't take rocket science to figure it out. Just like kissing a woman, but less curvy and way hotter. Sam quite likes it actually, and Cas is a very confident kisser, which is reassuring.

Consider Sam utterly distracted..

The lift comes up to a halt at their floor, doors sliding silently open with a calm announcement of their arrival and the couple reluctantly part.

They head in to grab a plate each and begin their buffet, Sam is amazed by the sheer spread; the amount of choice is amazing. Well worth the lift journey.

After loading up, they find a table for two near a window, casually agreeing that the view of the city and it's surrounding areas, are something to marvel at. Cas politely excuses himself in order to get them both a drink of wine.

Sam slowly starts his meal, eyes fixed firmly upon Cas, smiling to himself at how tuned in this man seems to be. Perfect boyfriend material, he decides, quickly taking his phone out to take a quick photo, and while he's at it; send Charlie and Jess a text to let them know they arrived safely.

Castiel returns with their glasses of Rosé, handing Sam's over so that they can do a proper toast this time. "To us."

"To us." Sam replies, gently clinking his glass against Castiel's.

The pair eat until they're comfortably stuffed, discussing various subjects such as hobbies, childhoods, siblings, and the general like. Sam finds it easier to let his feelings spill out, but that may be due to his fourth glass of wine.

"Castiel Novak, are you trying to get me drunk?" Sam playfully accuses, leaning in to press a misjudged kiss to the tip of Cas's nose, but actually gets his cheek.

"It's a very good look on you, I must say." He chuckles, lifting Sam's hand to kiss. "Are you ready, sweetheart?" Sam feels as though he's just melted from affection.

"Lemme pay for my share." He tries to fish out his wallet with his free hand, but fumbles with his pocket.

"You can make it up to me the next time. This is my treat, come on." He exits his chair to help Sam to his feet. "I think that the wine has gone to your head. Would you like to go for a walk before I call our Uber back?"

"I'd do anything with you."

"You might regret that one day." Castiel jokes, helping Sam back into the lift.

"May I stay the night? Don't want to be alone tonight.. And I'd really appreciate some cuddles..."

"Sam, you needn't have to ask."

Castiel has an arm around Sam's waist to hold him close during the descent down, idly pressing tender kisses to Sam's wine flushed cheeks. Sam finds this all very delightful, despite it being their first date, he's at ease with any sort of comfort that Cas wants to shower him with.

"Don't fall asleep on me, babe." Castiel hums against Sam's neck, strong fingers carding through his hair. Sam purrs at the touch, draping himself over the shorter man. He'd not even realised that he'd closed his eyes.

They're soon out and into the street, hands held tightly, sharing each other's space. Castiel's phone beeps, presumably a new text, Sam thinks, feeling refreshed in the cool night air, even if it makes him a little light-headed.

"Just letting the girls know that I'm looking after you." Castiel announces, pressing a quick kiss to Sam's cheek.

"My guardian angel." Sam murmurs softly, lightly squeezing Castiel's hand. "I've always believed in them, you know?"

"What, angels?" Castiel asks, leading Sam safely over the road, just to take a stroll in the small community garden. "You believe that I am God's Holy Warrior?"

"Yeah! Wasn't there a Cassiel?"

"Very well done you! Archangel Cassiel to be exact. Cassiel means Speed of God. 

Unlike many other angels, Cassiel is known for simply watching the events of the cosmos unfold with little interference. He is the angel of solitude and tears, and is said to preside over the deaths of kings."

Sam blinks in mild surprise, impressed with Castiel's sudden prowess. "Wow.." Is his oh so smart reply.

Cas chuckles and pulls him to sit down on a bench, already busy texting their Uber driver to come pick them up.


	12. Chapter 12

The journey back to Castiel's dorm seems to take less time than it did to go to their date, or so Sam thinks. Cas pays the driver and leads Sam up the steps to unlock the front door.

Sam follows him into the lounge, flopping down onto the couch so he can safely remove his shoes. "You look hot tonight." Sam admits with a wonky grin. The only downside to his drinking, is that he has no verbal filter.

Cas chuckles and toes his boots off, shrugging out of his jacket in the process. "Thank you, Sam. You're pretty sexy yourself." He saunters over to press a kiss to Sam's unsuspecting mouth. 

Their lips are chilled from the cold night air, but Castiel's tongue is hot enough to soothe the tingle away. Sam lets out a soft grunt and pulls Cas down to straddle his lap.

There's an answering groan against his mouth, Castiel's hands intent on raking through Sam's hair. Sam tips his head back to deepen the kiss, hands sliding up the backs of Castiel's thick thighs, squeezing the swell of his ass.

The couch creaks warningly under their weight, as Castiel grinds his hips down to meet Sam's, hot mouth sucking loud, wet kisses up the expanse of Sam's heated throat.

"Fuck, Cas!" Sam groans breathlessly, bucking his hips up to meet the tantalising friction, while simultaneously trying to be quiet. There's the potential of being walked in on after all.

Castiel pulls back for a breather, grinning mischievously. "Would you like another drink, babe?" His lips are kissed dark, blue eyes shining with lust, hair ruffled. It's a very good look on him.

"Beer please if there is any?" He sits up to cool off for a minute, feeling far too hot under the collar. He slacks are a little tight, what with blood traveling south. As much as his mouth has just gotten intimate with Castiel's, he's unsure if sitting in his underwear would be acceptable.

"Feel free to turn the television on." Castiel announces, currently rummaging in the fridge for said beers. "Is Budweiser okay?"

"Absolutely perfect!" Sam replies, successfully finding the remote wedged under a cushion. "What did you feel like watching?"

Cas returns with two cans, one in each hand, and sits down beside him. "Anything is fine, so long as it isn't a porn channel. Or a Christian channel.." He doesn't seem to look pleased over either.

"Don't worry, I shall keep all the sins down to a minimum." Sam jokes playfully, taking his beer and rewards Cas with a kiss to the cheek. "We could always check a sports channel, or see if there's a movie on?" Sam would really like to suggest that Cas could just watch him. In bed.

His not-guardian angel takes a large mouthful of beer and motions for the remote, which Sam willingly hands over. He watches Castiel press a few buttons and takes a large sip of his own beer.

"Cartoon Network? Didn't know they played stuff at this time of night." Sam grins, scooting close to watch old cartoons with his date.


	13. Chapter 13

Two AM rolls around and they've had four beers each. Maybe? Sam's lost count since he and Cas had shared a cigarette. He feels pleasantly chilled and has the giggles something chronic.

Cas attempts to quieten him with a finger across the lips, to which Sam promptly sucks on. "Fucking hell, Sam. You're such a tease." Cas whispers roughly, lightly pumping the digit in and out of Sam's wet mouth.

"Shit. Lemme turn the TV off real quick, I wanna take you to bed." He withdraws his finger with a wet pop, and practically runs to unplug the TV from the wall. "Can you stand?"

Sam lurches to his feet, managing to crush a few empty cans in the process. "Be careful. Don't want you cutting your feet." The shorter man comes around to lead Sam safely away from their carnage and out into the hallway.

"Stairs next. Do I need to follow you up, or can you follow without falling over?" Sam can't help but giggle, though he does attempt to make the noise a little quieter.

They somehow manage to head up and into Castiel's room in one piece. The door is closed securely behind them, so as to not wake Dean, and Cas begins to undress.

Sam is quick to follow suit without too much trouble, and is soon naked and sprawled out on Castiel's bed.

"You're eager!" Cas comments softly, finally bare for Sam to see. Sam can't tear his eyes away from the prominent erection jutting from between Castiel's meaty thighs. Heart beating a little faster, body flushed with heat, Sam crawls up the bed to lay on his back against the pillows.

"I don't want to rush you, or pressure you into anything Sam, but I'd love to be your first." Cas moves to straddle Sam's chest, dick practically right in his face. "I want you to have a go at sucking dick. Don't worry, I'll return the favour, babe."

If Sam's cheeks were warm before, they're fucking on fire now. His hands slide up the backs of Castiel's thighs, palms pressing against heated skin, pulling him a little closer. "Okay." He exhales raggedly, full of nervous energy.

Cas smiles tenderly, stroking Sam's jaw with gentle coaxing fingers. "Open wide, beautiful." Sam watches Castiel stroke himself; strong fingers wrapping around the girth.

Sam doesn't feel so drunk and/or stoned now. It's weird how sobering this is. Hell, he's surprised he could actually get it up!

"You okay there, babe?" Cas calls out to him, blue eyes full of concern as he peers down at him.

"Sorry, got a little distracted.." Sam admits softly, licking his lips to wet them, before self consciously opening his mouth.

"It's okay, honey. I've got you." Castiel soothes, guiding the crown of his dick to Sam's awaiting lips. "I bet you're a fast learner." There's a little growl to his husky voice that sends a shiver rolling down Sam's spine and up his dick.

Sam's tongue peeks out to lap at the blood darkened velvety skin, testing the taste and texture. Encouraged by Cas's soft groan, he suckles in experimental strengths, fingers pressing into the soft skin of Cas's thighs.

It's a little awkward, what with the angle Sam is craning his neck at, unsure how to voice his concerns. Not because he has a partly filled mouth, but because it's not something he's had practice at. Blowjob: 101, taught after hours by a biology professor. Sam inwardly laughs at his own wit.

"You alright down there? Want me to show you how it's done?" Cas gently eases back, reaching down to rub his thumb over Sam's bottom lip. "C'mon, gorgeous. Tonight's all for you." He slides back, sinking down to lay flush against Sam's body. "I'm so proud of you."

"Naw, man. I haven't done anything.." Sam whispers hoarsely, heart thudding in his chest. "But I hope to learn every skill I'll need." He surges up to kiss Castiel possessively, a hand carding in soft jet hair.

Cas gives him some time, hand gently stroking the ache from Sam's dick, trailing kisses down Sam's body. Sam gasps loudly when Castiel's mouth suckles at the tip, toes curling into the sheets as he tries to keep himself from arching up.

A groan shoots out of his mouth as Castiel slowly takes him in, eyes squeezing shut at the feeling of a hot throat fluttering around his girth. Porn does nothing to teach Sam in the slightest. How could he compare watching to experiencing?

"Fuck, Cas!" He curses softly, thighs spreading wide to accommodate the other man. He spares a glance down and almost comes right there and then; Castiel's pink lips are stretched wide around Sam's girth, dark, wet and oh so inviting. Cas slowly bobs up and down, fingers stroking the base of Sam's dick where he can't take him all in.

Cas does something unexpected, pops a finger into his mouth, Sam feels Cas's tongue lap at the digit before pulling it back out. He can't fathom what Castiel would do next, and groans loudly when the finger rubs at his pucker.

Castiel chuckles around Sam's dick, sending vibrations shooting down into Sam's balls. Dammit, he's so close with just Cas's finger playing with his ass. Sam's a hot mess; practically crying out for his dick to be sucked, writhing needily on the bed. The digit sinks home, Castiel slides back to suckle on the head, and probes searchingly.

Sam damn near howls at the sudden flare of pleasure, head thrashing back against the pillows as his ass pushes down onto Castiel's finger. Another digit slides in beside the first and Sam completely loses it; balls almost burning as he climaxes in hot thick ropes, right down the back of Cas's throat.

Cas is gentle as he withdraws his fingers, crawling back up to kiss Sam roughly as he works on his own release, hand fisting his dick at an alarming pace. Sam groans along with him, feeling thoroughly debauched when strings of spunk mark his chest and stomach.

"You did so well, Sam. Come on now, lets get some sleep." He pulls the taller man in for a snuggle.


	14. Chapter 14

The loud crescendo of a wailing guitar rudely startles Sam out of his sleep. "What the shitballs?!" Sam exclaims, flying bolt upright in the bed, highly disorientated and slightly hungover.

Castiel stirs beside him, blue eyes squinting up from the cocoon of blankets they'd huddled under. "Dean's awake." He states simply, stifling a yawn, reaching out to pull Sam down for lazy morning cuddles.

"He does this often?" Sam willingly goes back down, hoping his morning breath doesn't smell too offensive.

"Only when he's in a pissy mood." Castiel sounds almost bored with the whole thing. "Food usually brings him right around."

Sam blushes softly and pulls the blanket over their heads. "Was I too loud last night?"

"You were perfect, babe."

.....

"I don't know if I can do this." Sam announces, burying his face in his hands as he sits down at the library table. 

To keep things on neutral ground, they'd arranged to hold the tutoring session here. Charlie and Castiel were there for support, even though they had work to be writing up.

Charlie leans forward to whisper enthusiastically in Sam's ear. "He's the typical bottom; all pampered and begging for a good dick in his ass."

Sam blushes and coughs, startled by her forwardness, straight to the point. "You think so? I dunno, seems like he already hates me.." Cas squeezes his hand and returns his gaze to the book he's reading from, busy scribbling notes in his notepad.

Charlie clucks her tongue in disagreement. "Nonsense, Sam. Who could hate you?" She pulls back to go and make him a coffee. "You nearly haven't had enough caffeine today."

Sam chuckles and watches her go, before pulling some blank paper towards him. He'd best start writing, the sooner they start, the better.

Dean arrives when Charlie sets Sam's coffee on the table, his green eyes tracking the movement of the cup. "And where is mine?" He asks, looking most disapproving, arms folded across his chest.

Charlie scoffs and shoots him a glare. "I'm sure you can make one yourself. You seem pretty capable." Sam tries not to smirk at her reaction to Dean.

"You've clearly made one for him." Dean's voice is firm, eyes narrowed as he remains standing, unmoving by her retort.

"He's my friend. You have to earn my coffee." Charlie bites right back, coming to stand almost toe to toe with him, her eyes defiant.

Dean turns to Sam. "You make one then." He's clearly not impressed, having been used to getting his own way.

Sam shakes his head and sips from his cup, a silent mockery to the angry short man. He sets the cup down and savours the taste. "We've got work to do. You can earn that coffee later." He turns back to the various books before him.

Dean growls softly, the noise making Sam's heart flutter, and reaches to steal the unprotected cup. Sam protests loudly and reaches to snag it back, fingers brushing against Dean's. The sudden electricity at the touch makes Sam pull away, heart pounding in his chest. His throat is tight, bone dry, yet he can't gather the courage to try again, as nice as that odd little tingle was. Dean smirks triumphantly and steals a sip, long, slender fingers wrapped tightly around hot ceramic. Sam can't tear his eyes away, brain descending back into the gutter.

It's Charlie's quiet cough that brings both men back to attention. "Quit goofing around you two, and get to work. I'm not here to babysit your asses."

A bubble of laughter bursts from Sam's lips before he has the chance to reign it in, hazel eyes twinkling with mirth. There's a quiet grumble and Dean sits down on the chair beside him, reluctantly giving up the hold on Sam's cup, though his hand lingers dangerously near.

Cas quietly watches them from his seat beside Sam, looking a little less than pleased at Dean's choice of behaviour, but chooses not to say anything. Sam turns to press a quick kiss to his lips, which doesn't go unnoticed by a grinning Charlie, or a rather sulky Dean.

Sam would happily snog Castiel right now, just to provoke Dean a little more, but he's being paid to tutor this bratty twenty something year old adult. "Can I see your first draft?" He asks Dean, firmly holding his coffee cup so as to not have it stolen again.

Dean reaches down for his satchel and pulls it up into his lap, fingers snapping open the clasp. He withdraws the printed sheaf of papers and drops it unceremoniously onto the table before Sam.

"No need to be so loud." Sam comments dryly, smoothing his hands over the crease-free paper, taking up a red pen to make corrections with.

"Just like you two, you mean?" Dean snaps, setting the satchel back down and out of the way. He pulls a book towards him and opens to a bookmarked page.

Sam's cheeks burn hot and he has to bite his tongue to keep back an acidic retort. It wouldn't do to make a fool of himself, and it certainly wouldn't be fair to upset Castiel.

Charlie remains miraculously quiet, though her typing is a little slower, obviously awaiting some sort of juicy tidbit, which Sam isn't going to indulge. Not right now anyhow.

So instead of saying something, which he'll probably regret later, he opens the first page and begins to read Dean's work. 

After half an hour of underlining, correcting and writing notes in the margins, Sam hands the papers back. "What you've written is well thought out, we just need to apply a few changes to keep the reader hanging onto your every word." He notes that Dean looks a little crestfallen, before the expression turns neutral. "I've put in some comments on where to reinforce, but I can always explain further if you need me to."

He hopes that Dean doesn't take this to heart, Sam is a sensitive guy and feels guilty for even such menial tasks as telling a dog off.

Dean doesn't read the corrections, simply nods and rubs at his temples. Sam is sure that he can see him shaking at the edges, and reaches out to lay a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

Dean's jaw tenses, neck muscles cording, and for one split second, Sam thinks that he's going to get beat up. It wouldn't be the first time, though he did hope it would be the last. Pain was not something Sam enjoyed.

There's clear tension in the air; heavy and thick. So thick a machete wouldn't be able to cleave through. Sam hurriedly jerks his hand away as though burned, throat tight with an invisible lump.

"I-I should go.. I'll meet you guys later..." Sam pushes his chair back and all but flees from the library, practically sweating bullets. His heart crashes painfully against his chest and his breathing is laboured. Lungs feeling on fire, head pounding, he sways on leaden legs, sure that he's either about to faint or throw up.

He closes his eyes against the swimming vision, barely managing to prop himself against a wall, though his legs are failing to support him. His ears are ringing, but he can just make out a soft voice calling to him.

"Deep breaths, babe. I've got you. Just listen to my voice. You're okay." He numbly registers that it's Castiel who's attempting to hold him up. There's a hand on his chest, though for what purpose, Sam can't grasp right now. "I'm going to help you down to the floor. I want you to move slowly so not to make this worse."

Sam sinks down as slow as he can manage, ass finding the floor safely, long legs stretched out before him.

"That's it. Well done. Keep breathing for me. In... Out... In... Out... Good job, Sam." Cas reaches out to stroke Sam's cheek, hoping to comfort the man. "You're having an anxiety attack. Nothing to be scared about."

Sam finally manages to take a deep breath, chest easing up slightly. It feels like a small weight being removed.

Sure, he's had anxiety in the past, always had something to be worrying about.It shouldn't be bothering him, not really. Why should he be emotionally involved? Dean has no interest in taking anything else from this experience, only to pass this semester. Sam is sure Dean doesn't even want that really. If Sam's professor hadn't have asked him, Sam doesn't think he'd have bothered to take on tutoring Dean Winchester.

The young man is difficult: quiet and reserved, seemingly easily distracted, and heavily food orientated. Sam wonders if treats as rewards would work as an incentive.

Still, this is something he can focus on later. Right now he needs to calm down and ease the ache in his chest.

He finally sees Castiel properly, now that his eyes have cleared, and fresh guilt washes over him. Offering the man a rueful smile, he reaches for his hand, fingers lacing tightly for reassurance.

"You did brilliantly in there Sam. Don't let it get to you. Come on, I'll take you back to yours. We can watch a movie if you like?" Castiel helps him to his feet, draping Sam's arm over his shoulder and wraps his own around Sam's side. "Can you walk comfortably?"

Sam hesitantly stretches one leg and carefully sets it down, repeating the process with the other. They're a little achy but he thinks they'll hold him up. "I'll be okay once we've walked the cramp out." He turns his head to kiss Castiel's cheek sweetly. "Thank you for coming to my aid."

"You are most welcome, Sam. I'd do anything for you." His guardian angel human admits huskily, casually stealing a kiss before they set off at a gentle pace. 

Sam enjoys the gentle stroll back, hazel eyes soaking up their surroundings, noting small differences now and then. His belly is full of butterflies, heart filled with joy, on cloud nine right now. Nothing can bring him down.

After clumsily fishing out his key, they manage to successfully get inside, carefully closing the door behind them. Mr. Fizzles is out with Jess today; her project assignment. Honestly, thought Sam, how do you get permission to keep a cat in your dorm when pets aren't allowed? The wonder that is Jessica Moore.

They ease down onto the couch, Castiel fetching the remote and various snacks to keep them going. "Would you like a coffee?" He asks Sam, already on his way to the jug.

"You don't have to, Cas. This is my room, I should be the one doing the rubbing about.." Sam leans back against the couch and cranes his head to look behind him. Cas steps over to lean in for a soft kiss, gently stroking Sam's hair and face.

"I know. I want to. Just relax for once, and let me do this." Cas playfully chides, giving him a final kiss before heading to brew some coffee.

Sam makes happy murmuring noises when Cas returns with two piping hot mugs of coffee, shuffling over on the couch to make more room, before taking both mugs so that Cas can cuddle up beside him.

"This is incredibly thoughtful of you, Cas." Sam voices, handing the man a mug. "I don't want to take advantage of you.." He takes a sip of rich, dark coffee and wraps his fingers tightly around the heated ceramic.

"Sam, I really like you. You are a wonderful young man and I'd like to date you. There's nothing to it." Castiel blows into his mug, free hand reaching down to rest upon Sam's thigh. "Again, I'm terribly forward." He chuckles softly, hoping to break the ice.

"And I'm far too touchy-feely. So I'll think we'll do just fine." Sam smiles into his mug, feeling giddy and light-headed. His gaze falls to Castiel's hand stretched protectively across his thigh.

"I think you're adorable. The fact that you are cuddly makes it more endearing to shower you with affection. I could never deny you happiness." Castiel sets down his mug and half climbs into Sam's lap to press a soft kiss to his lips.

The kiss is slow, sweet and lazy, full of gentle touches and soft whispers of lips. Sam's mug is placed on the coffee table out of harm's way, and both men recline on the plush cushions beneath a blanket, Castiel covering Sam's body.

Sam is warm and sleepy, snuggled up beneath this old-world kind of man. Someone who wants to provide and nurture and shower with affection. This is something the young man had always dreamed of; a fairytale kind of love that his mama used to read to him as a young child. Something he thought didn't exist.

He allows himself to doze off, comforted and relaxed, holding Castiel close to him, breathing deep and content.

The days gradually turn into weeks, with Sam and Castiel becoming closer together. Sam tutors Dean on a Monday, a few other students throughout the week, and date nights are on Saturdays.

Today is a Wednesday and Sam has promised that they'll spend time with Charlie and Jess, though he doesn't exactly have anything planned. He supposes that his boyfriend will have a few ideas. Boyfriend. The very word made his insides sing, gave him hope. Helped him to roll out of bed in a morning.

Speaking of morning... Sam groans and squints at the alarm clock, tired eyes only just managing to read the time.

"Go back to sleep, darling." A husky voice, rough with sleep calls out to him. Sam rolls over to come face to face with a delightfully sleepy Castiel; dark hair all mussed, face covered with scruffy facial hair.

"Only if I can make love to you." Sam replies with a loving smirk, one large hand sweeping down his boyfriend's naked torso.

"Samuel Campbell, you are insatiable!" Castiel gripes playfully, enthusiastically grabbing the swell of Sam's pert ass. "When are you at the gym?" He asks, kneading the soft flesh teasingly. "I think you're losing muscle."

"Cheeky fucker." Sam grumbles lightly, reaching over for the lube on the bedside cabinet. "Gonna fuck that attitude right out of you."

"And here's me thinking we were making love!" Castiel feigns offence, shifting beneath his lover.

"Of course baby. Whatever you need." Sam presses a few more kisses to Cas's lips, deftly popping open the lube cap. He quickly but tenderly sets to work on prepping Castiel, pressing hot kisses along the smooth column of his throat.

Sam strokes over Castiel's hip as he slowly pushes in, groaning softly, hot breath ghosting against his boyfriend's neck, trying his damnedest to let the man adjust.

"Fuck, baby. You feel so good!" He whispers brokenly, burying his face into the warm curve of Cas's throat. 

Castiel rubs the expanse of Sam's broad back, making soft soothing noises mixed in with quiet whimpers. Sam keeps things slow, peppering feverish kisses all along Castiel's neck, hips rolling like lazy water.

"You're so perfect, Sam." Castiel grunts, hooking his legs around Sam's waist, blue eyes rolling back in their sockets.

Their bodies seem to melt as one, moving in tandem with a slow but desperate need. A tangle of limbs, sweat and heat stoking each other's fire. Mouths needily seeking, kisses fierce and loving, hot breaths mingling. In that one moment their hearts beat in unison.

Sam feels Cas tremble beneath him and knows that he's close, reaches down to stroke his lover's weeping cock with strong tenderness. "Come on babe, I've got you."

The sweet clench of muscles and Sam can feel himself toppling over the edge right along with him. Breathing erratic, he's careful to disentangle Castiel's legs, easing out of his tender lover, before flopping onto his back to ride out his high.

Castiel scoots over for a cuddle, hot breath panting against Sam's neck, heart beating rabbit-fast.

When they finally manage to get out of bed, it's a clumsy stumble into the bathroom for a invigorating hot shower to wash away the sweat and semen. Sam can feel the ache seeping out of his muscles, pulling Cas under the hot spray to feel the same relief. They wash quickly before getting out to start their morning routine.

Sam would happily stand beside his lover while they shaved.


	15. Chapter 15

Sam sprints to the nearest cover, panting heavily from the heady rush of adrenaline. He wipes away the dust from his goggles with a gloved hand, hefting the gun in his grip as he peeks over the steady stack of sandbags.

The midday sun beats down upon his back, making him sweat through the worn material of his tee shirt. It clings to his skin, uncomfortable and sticky. The light armour he's wearing is thankfully dull, a matte black to avoid sunlight glinting. It doesn't help though, seems to soak up heat like a sponge.

He hears the quiet scuffing of heavy boots, harsh breathing approaching behind him. A quick glance over his shoulder confirms that it's Castiel. Dirt and dust clings to his face, dark smears outline his goggles. 

"You look like a raccoon!" Sam whispers gleefully, turning his attention back to scanning their surroundings. No sign of the enemy yet, thank god. "On my six!" He gives one final search before leaping over the barrier, booted feet hitting the cracked earth as he lands in a run.

Castiel charges after him, Sam can hear his nervous laughter over the thump thump thump of feet. Obviously not as geeky serious as Sam is, but hopefully he's having fun all the same.

Sam leads the sprint over to a small lean to splattered with starbursts of colour. A very conspicuous hideout that is targeted frequently. He hold the gun in a Rambo style, kicking open the door with one powerful snap. The door swings back on it's hinges, thudding loudly against the wooden frame.

Empty.

He flattens himself against the side of the lean-to, making sure they weren't being followed. "Where can they be hiding?"

Cas wipes his brow and turns to rake his eyes over the field, odd splashes of paint here and there, mixed in with yellowing patches of grass and dry cracked earth. "Perhaps they went for a coffee?"

"What, when they're supposed to be paint balling with us?" He huffs, unable to keep the disappointment from his voice. "Maybe they're making out secretly somewhere?"

Castiel chuckles and pats Sam on the shoulder. "At a paintball game? Sam, you're a hopeful little shit. C'mon, you can watch my ass this time."

They spend a good ten minutes scouring the area for any signs of Charlie and Jess, eventually stumbling across a barn, to which they cautiously enter. Sam struggles to hear anything over the roaring of blood in his ears.

The barn reeks heavily of damp straw, drying paint and some unmentionable foul odour. Probably piss. Dust motes filter in through the eaves, catching sunlight as they flutter past. Sam would be quite comfortable in here if it wasn't for the cloying smell of ammonia.

There's a soft cough from somewhere nearby, the sound muffled by a hand maybe. Sam gestures for Cas to remain silent and flank around from the other side. There's a particularly large bale in the corner, ample space to hide behind, so that's where Sam aims, tiptoeing in heavy workboots.

Jess squeals when they open fire, splattering her armour in a rainbow of splats. Seeing Charlie wasn't there with her, Sam keeps Cas watching Jess.

There's a loud, Xena the Warrior Princess kind of battle cry, and Sam's ass suddenly feels on fire. He whirls around to face the whirling dervish that is Charlie, who deems it a good opportunity to fire more paintballs at him.

They thunk loudly against his armour and for one blood chilling moment, he is afraid that she will shoot him in the dick, but no, her efforts combine with Jess's and both men are attacked in a shower of paintballs.

Sam blindfires in Charlie's direction, hoping that he can at least shield his face from any hits. His ass is stinging something wicked. Cas's yelps confirm that he is on the same end of pain.

They all reluctantly lower their guns when all the ammo seems to be depleted and when no-one is likely to pull any trick moves. A tired and aching Sam leads the small group back to the hire stand, handing over all the equipment before making his way to the changing rooms to swap pants. Luckily he'd convinced everyone to bring a spare pair.

Once they've complained about how much they all hurt, and who's going to have the biggest bruise by tomorrow, they slide carefully into Charlie's blue Camaro, and settle down for the next leg of the journey.

Jess had planned for them to have a relaxing spa afternoon, which seemed like a very good idea. Especially after all that hard pelting with small pellets.

Sam tries to keep his weight off of his ass and leans against Castiel for backseat cuddles. Jess makes a soft noise of delight, sharing a private look with Charlie as she drives.

Sam opens his window and allows the cool breeze to soothe his overheated face, Castiel's fingers stroke through his hair in a repetitive calming manner. There's eighties rock ballads playing on the radio and Jess is singing along. This feels like such a perfect moment.


	16. Chapter 16

The drive must have taken a while, because Sam finds himself being gently awoken from the nap he didn't even know he was taking. A little groggy and more than aching with cramp, he allows himself to be manipulated carefully out of the car.

They'd managed to get the weekend passes on a discounted price, and while it was only a Thursday, none of them had lectures until Monday. It was too perfect to be true.

Sam limps around to the trunk with Cas, helping to unload their cases, how on earth they'd managed to fit in three is anyone's guess, and wheeled them up the path to the entrance.

Sam wants nothing more than to check in and head up to his room for a hot shower, then maybe have a look for something to eat.

Jess leads them to the front desk, where she proceeds to arrange their room keys, and then they're off again, heading for the lift that'll take them up to their floor. Sam isn't so keen at being stuck inside a moving tin can, but he's still too groggy to care. Good job really, he doesn't fancy having a meltdown. Not when things are going so well.

Their ascent is fairly quick, what with the building on the fairly small height size. Sam is pleased about that one, and tugs Cas along to their room when the lift opens on their floor. Charlie and Jess are next door which is nice.

The door barely has time to lock behind him before his clothes are thrown in a heap, Sam charging into the bathroom for a steaming hot shower. Cas chuckles and dutifully picks up Sam's clothes and folds them along with his own, before joining him in the cubicle.

Sam washes himself vigorously, but is careful around any sore areas of skin that have raised up in uncomfortable lumps; there already seems to be bruises forming underneath the skin. Castiel presses loving kisses to Sam's shoulder-blades while he washes himself and his boyfriend's back.

"Did you like paint balling then? Seems as though you were quite keen with the strategy/hunt side of it." His tone is laced with fondness and a slight bit of amusement. "Should have been in the army."

Sam chuckles quietly and lets the water blast down his back. "I loved it, thank you. As for the army... I'm not very good at taking orders.." He turns to face Castiel, leaning back slightly so the water doesn't get in his eyes. "Besides, I wouldn't have met you."

There's a clear blush spreading like wildfire over Castiel's cheeks, and he most certainly approves of the reaction. He braves the cascade of water and leans in to smooch his man lazily.

After their shared shower, they dress in clean boxers and white bathrobes before heading down into the spa room. Sam feels ready to fall asleep again, needing the relaxing massage to unwind his tense muscles.

They both undress and lay face down on the massage tables, fluffy white towels covering their modesty. Sam turns his head to glance at Castiel, a small shy smile on his lips as he offers his hand to be held.

"Are you nervous?" Castiel voices his concern, rubbing the backs of Sam's knuckles with the rough pad of his thumb. Sam listens to the soft panpipes playing in the quiet room, settling into the relaxed atmosphere.

"A little, but I'm hoping that this will help us bond a little more." He rubs his cheek against the buttery-soft cushion, wriggling slightly to get comfortable. His feet easily hang over the edge of the table.

"Mhmm. No doubt about that one. Endorphins make a body very happy." Castiel inhales deeply, soft lips quirking up into a smile. "Can you smell the incense? It's wonderful."

Sam hums softly, watching the fairy lights twinkle above them; their muted pink, white and blue lights bathe Castiel's skin with a soft glow, before obediently resting his face in the cradle. He tucks his arms in as an afterthought.

Their masseurs quietly enter the room, dressed in crisp white uniforms, barely making any noise as they begin to select various oils for the massage.

Sam feels as though he is in a dream; soft and womb-like, encased in a warm balmy air, senses both heightened and muted at the same time.

The scent of lavender greets his nose as the large strong hands of his masseur begin to spread the warm oil across his back with long, gliding strokes. Sam feels like a baby seal.

The hands start at the bottom of his back, pressure featherlight as they travel up the expanse of his back, before trailing down the sides. He takes a deep inhale as they repeat the process, gradually increasing the pressure each time.

Sam groans softly as the touch turns into shorter, circular motions; fingertips and knuckles coming into play as they knead his wonderfully loosening back muscles.

The masseur's hands linger at Sam's spine; slowly working upwards, starting with large sweeps up from the buttocks first, then pressing each vertebrae with his thumbs.

He progresses up to Sam's shoulders, using gentle circular motions with his thumbs, slowly increasing pressure, before applying small karate chops to release pressure around the shoulder blade area.

Sam clenches his ass as more warm oil is smoothed over the soft swell of tender flesh, and hands begin to knead his buttocks. It's not a grope, but the touch is still nice. He hears Castiel chuckle at the soft groans of delight.

The massage moves to his thighs and calves, working out further tension that makes Sam's legs feel like jello.

"Can I have this when we get home?" He asks out loud, hoping that Castiel is listening and hasn't fallen asleep. The masseurs stifle quiet chuckles which has Sam's cheeks warming up.

He's gently encouraged to roll over onto his back. It's a touch and go moment; Sam trying to pull the towel around to hide his half-hard arousal as he turns over.

"Happens all the time. Don't worry about it." The masseur whispers soothingly, before moving away to change oils. Rose this time; light, floral and highly soothing.

The massage resumes, on his feet this time. Thumbs lightly pressing into the flesh of his heel, knuckles kneading the arch of his foot, fingers rubbing his ankles and toes. This felt like heaven.

"I definitely want one of these!" Sam exclaims, toes curling in ecstasy.

Up his calves and thighs, skin sensitive and momentarily tensing reflexively under the unfamiliar touch, before settling back down again.

Dean comes unbidden into his mind, and Sam can't help but imagine its the rugged, mysterious man touching him. Which doesn't help his predicament whatsoever. He can feel his cheeks warming again, no doubt flushing at the mental images.

Think unsexy thoughts.. Think unsexy thoughts!

Sam's chest, neck and face is massaged just as thoroughly as his back was, hands gentle and slow as the massage comes to an end.

Feeling as though he'd just been through the most stress relieving wringer, Sam is handed his robe and left to his own devices. There is a hot tub in the corner, and what appears to be a bottle of something fizzy. Sam is eager to get there.

A quick check to see if Cas was ready, before he hops off of the table, waddling like the late, great John Wayne to the promise of bubbling hot water. Shedding the robe, he all but clambers into the water, sighing contentedly at the heat.

Castiel joins him shortly, looking fresh-faced and sated. As though they'd just had an intense love-making session and not a very satisfying massage. He leans in to kiss his boyfriend on the lips, before pouring them both a generous glass of champagne.


	17. Chapter 17

The scent of lavender is overpowering, waist high shrubs full of purple flowers await exploring hands. Honeybees buzz merrily as they gather nectar for their hive. Sam is mildly perplexed by the presence of such a shrub, seeing as it isn't native to America, but passes it off as being imported.

He hefts the satchel over his shoulder and strolls leisurely down the channel between the shrubs, holding Castiel's hand as he trails behind. The shorter man is content to run his fingers over the tops as they pass, occasionally plucking a few heads to stuff into his pockets.

There's a slight upwards ascent to the terrain, which proves to be of no difficulty. It's amazing at how such a field exists, Sam wishes that he has a camera..

The air is warm and balmy, soothing his exposed skin. Forgoing a jacket today, seeing as the weather is turning out to be nice, they've decided to go for a little walk and then a picnic.

He stops to watch Cas lean over to sniff at the lavender shrubs, and takes a photo with his mobile. Well, maybe two or three..

Cas hears the shutter sound and looks up towards him. The man's smile is beautiful to see. Sam swallows the thick lump forming in his throat and tries to ignore the mad flapping of butterflies in his stomach.

"It smells fantastic here. I want to take some back to plant in a window box." Cas announces, picking some more as he makes his way over to Sam. "Thank you for bringing me out here, Sam."

"It's fine, Cas. I thought you'd like it." He leans down to brush his lips against Cas's, catching a faint trace of rose oil from last night's massage session. "Mm. You smell nice." He purrs, stealing another kiss, one hand resting on Castiel's hip to draw him closer.

Cas tiptoes to keep their lips connected, arms looping around Sam's neck for balance. Sam is tempted to pick Castiel up. He reluctantly parts the kiss, taking his lover's hand to begin walking again.

They walk for another twenty minutes, just breathing in the lavender scented air. Sam feels more relaxed than ever, and knows that he'll have a good night's sleep. It's so refreshing to not have to worry about having schedules to follow.

"Are you hungry?" He asks, glancing around for a suitable place to sit for their picnic. Thankfully, there's a bench a short distance away, tucked beneath a tree. Castiel makes a soft noise of affirmation, gently tugging Sam along.

They sit opposite each other, so as not to tip the bench. Sam wouldn't put it past it, knowing his luck and all. Their lunch consists of a variety of sandwiches - ham, cheese, tuna, cucumber- two packets of chips, a small assortment of candy bars and bottles of water and soda.

Eating in silence, they listen to the sounds of nature, happy to bask in the simple pleasures of the great outdoors. Sam's always loved being outside, ever since he was a child. Part of his upbringing was living on a working ranch in Texas.

He desperately misses home, and can't wait for the opportunity to go and visit his family. His mama especially. He'll take them all gifts when he has the chance. Perhaps he'll bring Cas along if they're still together at the end of semester. He really hopes so, but things can sometimes become difficult, what with job prospects and such.

They finish up their meal before heading back, while Sam is in no rush, he'd like to send his mama an email. Just to see how she's going. His daddy would want him to be a caring young man. Hell, he'd make him proud someday.


	18. Chapter 18

Sam arranges to spend the afternoon with Charlie, giving Cas the opportunity to get to know Jess. 

Sam pours the milk, spoons in the coffee and adds hot water into two mugs, to prepare for Charlie's arrival. They'd been having movie marathons lately, first Harry Potter, and now they'd moved onto The Lord of The Rings - Charlie's favourite. He'd compared her to Galadriel; fierce, loyal and full of wisdom. She'd oddly compared him to Samwise. Sam had pointedly joked that he should be Aragon, obviously focusing on height, hair and rugged good looks.

Charlie arrives ten minutes later and the pair lounge on the sofa, eating popcorn and goofing around. "Frodo and Sam are clearly gay for each other." She states with a wide grin.

There's a pause as Charlie falls silent. "Why did you give Dean Winchester my cell number?" Sam's heart pounds worryingly in his chest.

"What? I-I didn't, Charlie, I swear!"

Charlie laughs softly at him. "So you're saying he stole your cell and took my number, is that it?"

"I would have known if he'd shoved his hand in my pocket." He blushes at the thought.

"I'm sure you would!" She laughs, embarrassing Sam all the more. "So how has he gotten a hold of my number?"

"Perhaps he pulled it off of the records?"

"You've got to be kidding me! How the hell has he done that, Sam? It's private information!"

"Maybe it's an inside job?" He suggests, which is apparently the wrong thing to say.

"He's gotta be good enough for my boy." She leaves it at that, attention turning back to the movie.

Sam watches her wearily for the first half hour, preparing himself for any more teasing. "You're forgetting that I already have a boyfriend. Why don't you just text him and ask him to delete your number?"

"Good idea! You can text him on your phone. It's clear he wants yours. Why else would he pester me?" She reaches for his cell and starts typing out a message.

Sam's belly churns uncomfortably with worry. "Charlie! You can't do that! What if he texts me?" She gives him a look. This was her plan all along!

"Oh come on Sam! You fancy the pants off of this guy, why wouldn't you want his number?" She continues typing, clearly memorised Dean's number already. Sam grumbles and munches through his fries. "I'm sure he wouldn't object to a booty call." She states neutrally, as though she isn't at all joking. That's what he dreads the most..

"What are you texting him?" He tries to peer over her shoulder, but is pushed back with a threatening elbow to his face. "Watch the goods!" He protests, attempting to tickle her into submission. "Charlie, please? It better had not be something mortifying!" The redhead hands him the phone back, smirking widely. He hurriedly scrolls through, only to find she's deleted the sent message from his outbox. Damn her.

Sam's cellphone is silent for the rest of the afternoon.. He's not sure if that's a good or a bad thing...


	19. Chapter 19

Charlie leaves three hours later, their movie night on hold for when Sam has his two days off. Still smirking to herself about that damn mystery text.

It's not until he begins to undress for bed that his cell pings with a new text. Castiel has yet to return to their room, probably being held captive by Jess and Charlie. Curiosity and then a sinking sense of doubt washes through him. Dean... He drops his creased tee shirt to the floor, chest bare and shivering under the cool air, almost tumbling onto the bed to read Dean's reply.

[Unknown number: Thanks, I guess... Did you need a picture to remember it by? And yes, I promise to stop texting your charming, coffee-withholding friend. -D]

Sam reads and rereads the text, heart pounding, skin growing warm. What the hell did he want to send Sam a picture of? With a raised eyebrow, he slowly and hesitantly types a reply.

[Reply to unknown number: I think that would be acceptable. Don't mind Charlie, she's easily won over with Harry Potter merchandise. Hermione to be exact. -S]

He hits send and fervently hopes that he's not about to receive some sort of obscure photograph. Or worse, something from a serial killer. He shivers again, before realising that he needed to continue undressing. Damn that man!

A soft buzz sends him skittering over to the bed, socked feet slipping on smooth wood. Taking a deep breath, he opens the text and lets out a rough groan.

A solitary photo of what appears to be Dean's bare ass greets the screen, warming Sam's cheeks and makes his heart pound. "Fuck..." He whispers, thumb brushing over the image of the perfect hard curves, bottom lip between his teeth.

[Reply to unknown number: Holy cow... It looks even better without those pesky jeans hiding them. Am I supposed to return the favour? -S]

[Unknown number: Asses aren't really my thing.. -D]

Sam exhales loudly, hands flying through his mess of snarled hair, anxiety just starting to creep through him, twisting low in his gut. He reaches for his phone, hurriedly storing Dean's number into the memory.

[Reply to Twink Ass: No? What do you prefer? -S]

Sam pulls back the covers, flicking on the lamp, main light off, and slides into bed, reviewing that photo. Such a gorgeous ass. He'd like nothing more than to sink his teeth into soft flesh, tongue rasping over those tight globes, making Dean squirm and whine.

He realises that he's in no mood to sleep just yet, softly cursing Charlie for having left him to deal with this. He still can't believe that Dean is texting him. Must be a trick or something. He pinches himself just to make sure.

[Text from Twink Ass: That would be telling. You'll have to earn it. -D]

Sam snorts in disbelief, sets the phone on the cabinet beside the bed, and stares up at the ceiling. He's making no headway with Dean, the stubborn ass, but what did he honestly expect?

He hears the door click as Castiel enters, heart thumping almost painfully against his chest. Swallowing thickly, he composes himself before turning his head to the side. "Have fun with Jess?" 

Cas is halfway undressed already, in the process of folding his tee shirt. "I did, thank you. We painted each other's nails and drank some complimentary wine." Castiel chuckles and unfastens his belt, slowly drawing out the leather through the belt loops.

"What colour did she give you?" Sam rolls onto his side to watch his lover undress. "Careful she doesn't turn you straight!" He teases playfully, making himself comfortable.

Cas laughs shortly and sets his belt down with the tee shirt. "She's gay, isn't she? How would that even work?"

Sam feels his cheeks heat. "Um, no. She's bi.." He stares down at the bedding so he doesn't have to look at Castiel's reaction.

"Oh. I'm sensing there's something else you're not telling me..?"

"Oh. Um, yeah. She was my first. Gay guy's gotta find himself somehow.." He startles when a cheek strokes unexpectedly across his face.

"Look at me, Sam." Castiel's tone is soft, gentle like. "Do you honestly think that I would be mad to find out about your past? As though something like that would put me off?"

"I used to be a hooker once.." He says with mock-seriousness.

"Of course you did, Pretty Woman."

"You think you're Richard Gere! That's cute!" Sam teases with light laughter, and finds Castiel's shirt flung at his face.

"Why wouldn't I be? I'm a handsome, mysterious gentleman." Cas kicks out of his jeans and folds them neatly.

Sam snorts and throws the tee shirt back. "Don't even think about doing me on a piano!"

Cas pulls a face, before grinning widely. "Such a classy lady. I strictly refuse to take you to a polo game. I'm not that rich."

"Aww, but girls love horses!" Sam rolls onto his belly, kicking his feet up in the air. He gives Castiel his best wretched look; hazel eyes watering, lips sticking out in a cute pout.

"I am not buying you a horse either." Castiel pulls back the blankets and slides into bed, opening his arms to invite Sam in for a cuddle.

The taller man wriggles down beneath the covers, head resting on Castiel's chest, one arm and a leg thrown protectively over the shorter man. "As long as you'll let me rescue you right back."

Cas groans softly. "Stop referencing films now babe. It'll give me a complex." He strokes through Sam's already messy hair.

"Why? Are you jealous of Richard Gere?" Sam giggles, unwilling to let the subject drop just yet. Besides, he's having way too much fun. "Don't worry, I'll happily share him with you."

"What, in your fantasy? Who else have you got in there?" Cas gently prods Sam's forehead.

"Well. It's very roomy. I do have a big brain after all.." He rubs his cheek on Castiel's bare chest. "The young Clint Eastwood, Sterling Archer, Nathan Drake.. Lady Gaga and Beyonce have to be in there too. Oh, David Bowie!"

"Sterling Archer?"

Sam can feel the blush spreading on his cheeks. He hides his face under the blanket and tries to shrug the question off. Cas doesn't seem to get the hint, either that or chooses to ignore the silence.

"Well, who is he?"

"He's an American spy.." Sam mumbles against Castiel's left nipple.

Cas snorts softly. "A spy. From a book?"

"No!" Sam says a little too quickly, on the defensive. "He's an animated guy. Look, you might think it's stupid, but everyone's had a crush on a digital character."

"It's okay Sam. I'm not judging you." Cas pets his back gently, pressing a soft kiss to his hair. "God knows I'd never do that." A moment of silence. "Are you tired?"

Sam shakes his head slightly, tipping his head up to watch Castiel curiously. "If you want to sleep, I can always find something to do."


	20. Chapter 20

Sam receives an email from John the next morning, arranging for a day long tutoring session. Normally if Sam had something planned he'd argue the fact, but John has promised to pay him handsomely. Besides, the money could be put away for something important. Sam apologises profoundly to Castiel as he leaves. Though to his amazement, his boyfriend seems to be fully supportive with the whole thing.

Sam shakes the odd feeling off as he packs his bag and heads out to the parking lot. Jess has given him permission to borrow her car, they'll catch an Uber when they leave. He opens the trunk to the baby blue Chevvy and pops his bag inside, closing it with a soft thunk.

Sliding into the driver's seat, he notices a large suit bag on the backseat. What the hell is going on? Shaking his head, he keys the ignition and slowly drives out onto the quiet road. He considers ringing Castiel to demand some answers, but decides against it, not wanting to get pulled over.

The drive seems to go on forever, much to Sam's dismay. He'd not realised how far out they were. When he finally gets to Stanford, he's in need of a hot coffee and a walk to stretch his legs. 

The first stop is to his dorm, to set his bag down and check out the mysterious bag left on the back seat. Carefully unzipping the bag, he lets out a soft gasp at the black suit waiting for him. There's a rental receipt tucked neatly inside, Sam leaves that in the bag and hangs the suit up while he goes for a shower.

The hot spray rains down upon his chest as he leans against the chilly tiles. He squirts some shampoo into his hands and works it into his hair, letting his eyes close as blunt nails scratch lightly over his scalp.

His mind wanders to the chat he'd had with Castiel last night, unable to fathom as to why he'd have rented a suit for him. It must have got something to do with Sam's crush on Archer.. But still, things weren't adding up. If Castiel was indulging Sam's little suit fetish/fantasy, then how'd he jump to that conclusion so quickly, and without a great deal of information to get him there?

Of course. Jess. He'd been with her for a good five hours or so. She must have told him. Sam groans and washes out the shampoo suds, fingers raking through his hair. There's just the small matter of Sam's crush on Dean...

It's not as though he doesn't like Castiel, of course he does, but there's this little spark that Dean seems to ignite inside him. True love at first sight? Sam's not sure about that one. Perhaps his soulmate? It's difficult to fathom, after all, Sam barely knows himself.

He scrubs himself clean with lynx shower gel, inhaling the scent in an attempt to calm himself down.

This is just a tutoring lesson. He can cope with this. Though he's not sure why he'd need to wear a suit...

He shuts off the hot water and steps out onto the bathmat, vigorously rubbing himself dry with a towel.

With a heavy sense of dread, he dresses quickly, brushing his fingers over the suit. It's not tailored to fit him by any means, but it's nice. Something he'd love to own someday.

Shaking his head, he heads into the kitchen to make two thermos flasks of strong coffee, before heading back to the car to drive to the café for donuts, and then to Dean's dorm.

He has a little trouble getting out of the car and handling all his offerings.

"Need a hand?" A gravelly voice purrs into his ear, and Sam's heart thuds against his ribs, groaning quietly at the hard pumping of muscle. He swallows thickly and turns his head to look at the culprit.

Sam hefts up both flasks as proof of his bargain. Dean chuckles and takes the bag of donuts that are currently being gripped between Sam's teeth, briefly leaning against Sam's broad frame. 

"I knew you'd pull through." He gently jiggles the bag, free hand opening the front door to his dorm and whispers into Sam's ear. "Nice suit by the way." He comments, stepping past and into the hallway, turning to watch Sam.

The brunet hurries in after him, letting Dean lock the door behind them, finally allowing himself to breathe. He steals a quick glance to Dean, noting the charcoal pinstripe suit, white shirt, black loafers, hair slicked back. No tie. The very sight makes his dick swell.

"Remind me to apologise to your friend. I didn't mean to bother her, but things worked out for the best; I have my coffee for the morning" Dean smirks, as though that had been his intention all along. Sam scoffs lightly and rolls his eyes. Dean doesn't look the least bit bothered.

"What do you fancy going over today?" Dean carries on, slowly grinding on Sam's fragile nerves. Honestly, how could anyone be so cheery at 9 AM?

"Those are all options we will have to consider. A read-through of the material you've chosen to study. Note writing to help with the essay. Your current written paper. This is our chance at getting a good name for ourselves. It wouldn't make sense to cut corners or skip details." Sam replies, moving to lean against one of the walls, trying to think about anything other than Dean's ass in that suit.

"You're really dedicated huh?" Dean asks, leaning casually against the opposite wall; one foot resting on the wall, knee bent out in front of him. Sam wishes he'd gel his hair up for once.

"Gotta be. I want to go into publishing, writing my own novels. Be a lawyer. That kinda stuff." Sam shrugs, forcing himself to keep watching Dean. "This is my only chance to prove myself."

"And did your studies not help with that at all?" Dean genuinely sounds interested, and Sam doesn't know whether to be shocked by his concern, or wonder how Dean has found out about previous subjects.

"It helped some. Kept my typing speed up to par." Sam nods slowly, following Dean up to his room.

"But it's not enough recognition, right? You need more to be able to take the position you want?" Dean's feet thump quietly on the plush carpet underfoot. Sam nods, blushing at the double entendre, thankful that Dean can't see him.

"You got it." Sam shoulders the door to Dean's bedroom open and steps inside, Dean closing it with a soft click. A rush of excitement courses through his veins, before he realises that he's still standing in the middle of the room.

"Sit down, Sam." Dean breezes past, fingers brushing against Sam's as he reaches for one of the thermos flasks. Sam startles at the tingles and looks down at their hands, still unwilling to release the flask, transfixed by long, nimble fingers. "Let go, Sam." Dean whispers huskily, deliberately rubbing his thumb along Sam's pointer finger, sending shivers down the taller man's spine.

Sam risks a glance up to study Dean's face, heat washing over him. Full pink lips quirk at the corners, threatening to break into a smug grin, Cupid's bow a gentle curve. His tan skin is scattered with light stubble, defining his chiselled jaw, a slight dimple in his chin.

"Something fascinating?" Dean drawls, lazy southern accent coming through. Sam just wants to kiss him right there and then. Dean's free hand rises to lift Sam's head up, gently cradling his chin. Sam clears his throat shyly, slowly letting his eyes trail up Dean's face, until he's staring into gold flecked emerald. Damn.

Sam is breathless with anticipation, unable to tear his eyes away, caught like a deer in headlights. Dean's breath is warm and light against his cheeks, faint hint of breath-mints and Sam has never wanted to taste him so bad. He watches Dean lower his gaze, no doubt looking at his mouth.

Dean gently pries the flask from Sam's loosening grip and sets it down on the desk, repeating the motion with the other flask. Sam silently mourns the loss of warmth in his palms, but is soon distracted by a compact body pushing him forcefully down into the chair, standing between parted thighs.

"That's better." Dean growls, voice husky and full of liquid fire that seems to burn Sam's very blood. "Now. Where were we?" He clamps Sam's hands onto firm ass cheeks, making sure that they aren't going to pull away, before leaning down to ghost his breath across Sam's suddenly dry lips.

"You're such a dirty little slut, Sam. I see the way you yearn for me, even when you don't think I'm looking. I bet you fucking loved that photo last night." He grinds back against Sam's hands, generous bottom lip between white teeth. "You want my ass so bad don't you? Those awful slacks of yours don't hide anything." 

He leans closer, one palm flattening over Sam's racing heart. "I bet you wear your boxers a size too small, just so it keeps your dick down." He trails his hand south, punctuating his statement with a firm grope to Sam's crotch. Rewarded with a soft mewl, he carries on, mouthing up Sam's steadily flushing neck, teeth and stubble rasping soft flesh.

Sam groans quietly, head tipping back to give Dean more access, fingers digging firmly into hard buttocks. He can't help but rock toward that persistent hand, eyes closing at the whisper of friction.

"Dean! You're gonna have to fucking-" He's interrupted by a tongue roughly filling his mouth, Dean's lips crushing against his; exploring in that same lazy manner he'd caught a glimpse of earlier. A hand winds into Sam's long hair and tugs his head for a better angle, tongue plundering and lapping every inch of his mouth. He feels claimed, goaded into submission, at least for the time being.

Dean straddles his lap, free hand gripping Sam's shoulder as he grinds firmly against him, hips rolling, growling possessively into Sam's open mouth. Sam's body feels alight with desire, body melting under Dean's touch.

Dean nips and ravishes Sam's mouth as though he owns it, fingers pressing so hard into Sam's shoulders it leaves bruises, hips rubbing that bulky little package against Sam's straining cock.

"Dean...Please...Fuck..." Sam grits out, distracted by that tongue practically fucking his mouth. It's not enough, Dean is practically teasing him to insanity. Sam bucks his hips and ruts against him, sucking Dean's neck angrily.

Their hips crash together, chair skidding back a fraction on the carpet, threatening to topple over, Dean holds Sam's head just in case. The blinds are open, even though they're on the ground floor the building opposite looks into their room. Still, the pair are too engrossed in each other.

Sam gropes Dean's arse, broad fingers threatening to rip the seam of Dean's suit pants in his eagerness to feel more. Dean groans and wriggles closer, mouth hungry against Sam's, one hand sliding between them to unfasten his belt.

"Dean! Don't you fucking stop!" Sam snarls, roughly pushing Dean up to tug his belt free, hand unfastening the pants and plunges inside the warm confines, palming the older man through damp cotton boxers.

"Hnnng! If you just waited another fucking minute, Sam. Must you be so damn impatient!" Dean groans roughly, hands flying to repeat the same process, squeezing Sam's dick like a stress toy.

"Jerk!"

"Bitch!"

The chair crashes to the floor, Sam landing on his back with a loud thump, legs up in the air, Dean sprawled out on top of him.

"That look suits you." Dean chuckles, pulling them both free of their boxers. "Holy shit. You're so much bigger than I thought!"

"You do realise that you're talking, out loud, Dean?" Sam teases, pushing Dean down with a broad palm.

"Can we just get this chair outta the way? I can't get to you." Dean whines, sliding back to wrench the chair away, Sam lifts his hips to help.

"You know, I've been waiting to hear you say that." Sam blurts out, realising a second too late. His cheeks are hot, heart beating like a war drum, breathing hard already.

"You've heard of my high class reputation, that it?" Dean chuckles, pushing Sam's thighs apart to kneel between them, one hand teasingly stroking everywhere but Sam's cock.

"Is that what you call it? I'm just here for that killer ass." Sam jokes, relieved that Dean hadn't made fun of him. He still can't believe this is happening. Not as quick as he'd liked but it was a blessing all the same. Certainly not in this situation...

Dean snorts softly and surprises Sam with a filthy kiss to the head of his dick, tongue sweeping over and wriggling the tip into Sam's slit. Sam lurches up, hands fisting in Dean's short hair, attempting to shove him down further. The sight of pink lips stretched around his crown is maddening, Sam's blood hot and heavy in his groin.

"Fuck. Yes, Dean! C'mon, give it to me." He grunts, blunt nails lightly raking soft scalp. He's rewarded by a warm mouth slowly enveloping him, Dean's jaw working to take as much in as possible. Sam watches him transfixed, fingers smoothing small circles where his nails had bitten.

Dean wraps a warm hand around the base, sinking further, Sam's sure he can feel the back of his throat already: hot, wet and fluttering lightly. Dean presses the flat of his tongue down, slowly pulling up, caressing the aching vein and sweeps across the head, lapping up the pearly dribble of Sam's arousal.

Sam is lost in the moment, Dean bobbing up and down in eagerness, sucking and slurping so loudly that Sam is sure he's mistaken the appendage for candy. Dean is practically drooling down his dick, hand pumping and squeezing where his mouth doesn't, can't reach. It's lewd and so disgustingly right. And then, Dean starts whimpering, soft kitten-like noises that send tingles shooting down to Sam's balls.

Dean's whimpering increases tenfold, hand stripping Sam's cock furiously, mouthing wetly at the head. Sam can feel the build, balls hard as stone, heat pooling in his belly. Sam's back arches, straining towards that gloriously talented mouth, stars dancing in his vision as he explodes, shooting hot, white strands. Dean takes it all like a pro, swallowing his mouthful, tongue laving and lapping Sam clean, hand milking him dry.

He even has the courtesy to tuck Sam away, nimble fingers making quick work of zipping up, before crawling up to lick into the sated man's mouth. Sam groans at the taste: hot, salty and a slight bitterness. Dean's lips are a mess, dark pink and puffy from the harsh treatment they've been subjected too.

There's still the pressing matter of Dean's erection digging into his hip. "Let me take care of you, Dean." Sam murmurs against his mouth, hand reaching to wrap around Dean's dick like a glove.

A few hard pumps is all it takes, Dean is so worked up already, and is coming into Sam's fist with loud keening moans that could rival a porn star. Sam loves it, gently coaxing every last drop, Dean's body melted and boneless with the natural high. 

The pair stretch out contentedly, Sam rubbing Dean's back with his unsoiled hand, Dean nuzzling into Sam's neck. It's certainly an odd feeling, but Sam could come to expect this.


	21. Chapter 21

After both men have regathered their composure, and washed hands, and aired out Dean's room, they decide to finally get some work done.

Sam knew he should have waited longer. Dean just nudges him, handing over one of the thermos flasks, and boy, did he forget those.

They sit down in silence, Dean drops the donuts into the middle of the table, sipping hesitantly on his still hot coffee. Sam almost has sympathy, but then is quickly reminded that Dean wanted this. Win - win situation, he guesses, plucking a sugared donut from the brown paper bag.

"Thanks for the treat." He chuckles, silently thanking Dean for the blow job, chewing happily on the donut.

"I'm sorry about Charlie. She gets a little overexcited sometimes..." Sam apologises, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously. This was it, Dean was going to drop him and run a mile.

"I get it. It's good to have a close friend who cares about your well being." Dean claps a hand on Sam's shoulder, before carrying another chair over to the desk.

Sam watches Dean read for a little while before he begins to grow bored, leaning back in his chair, he folds his arms behind his head and whistles tunelessly.

Dean's nose scrunches up, brow furrowing slightly as he tries his damnedest to concentrate. "Dude. Could you stop? You're supposed to be tutoring me." Sam snickers at his sour tone.

"Have you written up your last paper?" Sam asks, crossing one leg over the other, hazel eyes pinning green in a level stare. Dean doesn't back down, eyes unblinking as he returns the stare.

"Yeah, you want me to print it out for you?" He opens a word document on his computer and hits print. Sam can't help but notice a porn folder on Dean's desktop.

"Classy." Sam deadpans, smirking at Dean's sudden blush, and damn, it's attractive. "Do you not have some willing fuckbuddy to pester?" It's an attempt at teasing him, though Dean looks a little twitchy.

"I don't pester anyone." He folds his arms across his chest and practically glares daggers at Sam. "Besides, the person I like doesn't... Isn't interested. Whatever, it's complicated."

Sam guesses he's hit a nerve on that one. Grabbing his thermos, he pours himself a generous mugful. "So what book did you choose to write an essay on?" He decides that it's a good idea to divert the conversation. For both of their sakes.

"You mean the Stephen King ones, right?" Dean pushes his chair back to head over to the wireless printer. Why on earth it isn't underneath the desk, Sam will never know. Heck, there's plenty of room under there. Probably could even fit him down there. Sam shivers at the mental image.

"Yeah. They're the ones." Sam replies with a slight croak, slowly covering his groin with a heavy textbook.

"It." Dean replies neutrally, stooping down to grab each printed sheet from the tray. Sam, of course, knows exactly where to look. And what a gorgeous sight it is.

"What is?"

Dean turns around and rolls his eyes, as though Sam had failed to understand his simple reply, which he totally had done. "Y'know, It. With Mr. Pennywise?"

Sam shudders and abandons the book. Seems that he won't be needing it now... "The clown? Really, Dean? I fucking hate clowns!"

Dean chuckles and saunters back over, nearly stapling the stack of paper, before handing it over. "So? It's not as though you're gonna have to read it."

"No, but I'll have to read your damn notes!" He takes up a red pen, sorely tempted to scrawl above the title: 'Dean Winchester is a major dickhead.'

"And watch the movie with me." Dean replies casually, ruffling Sam's already tangled hair. At this rate, he'll have knots the size of Texas.

"You have got to be shittin' me!" Sam cries out in protest, looking up at Dean with indignation. "That's so unfair!" He doesn't want to think about the ensuing nightmares that will happen as a result of watching such material.

"Swear on my pretty little ass. I ain't shitting you, Sam. Watching will help me just as much as reading a book." Dean pats Sam firmly on the back. "Now, I'm gonna read a chapter while you're correcting my shit. Don't sweat, okay?"

Sam lets out a soft whimper and stuffs a donut into his mouth in a vain attempt to keep quiet from now on. Dean's already heard more than enough...

Dean simply snickers and finds the book he'd chosen to read, moving away to recline on his bed. Sam watches briefly before turning his attention to marking Dean's printout.

It's slow going because Sam keeps getting distracted by Dean's little sighs as he reads: part of him wants to shut the shorter man up, whereas the other half wants to go over there and read with him.

Eventually, Dean settles into the book, Sam knows that as such, because everything is quiet, save for the scratch scratch of red pen as he writes. Coffee is his motivator here, easily helping him work through Dean's rough draft, and finally he's done.

He leaves the papers on the desk and slowly eases himself out of the chair. His leg has gone to sleep from staying in the same position, so he limps around the room.

Glancing toward Dean, he notices that the young man is wearing a pair of black plastic glasses, stretched out languidly on the bed. Sam's heart yearns with a soft sort of longing, and he finds himself on the mattress beside Dean, without even knowing how he got there.

"Hi." He greets quietly, laying down carefully beside the other. Quite timidly, he rests his head on Dean's shoulder and immediately expects to be rebuffed, but is very pleasantly surprised when Dean reaches out for Sam's hand.

"Hey." Dean greets quietly, voice fruity and pleasant to Sam's ears. "You done reading my boring pile of mush?" He finally turns his head to gaze down at Sam, stroking his thumb over Sam's knuckles.

"It wasn't mush. There's a lot of potential in there. Stop tearing yourself to shreds." Sam soothes him, tilting his head back on Dean's shoulder to look up at him. "You know, we're gonna crease the hell out of these suits, just lounging around like this. Can I borrow a hanger?"

"You're going to undress? I might have something that could possibly fit you. Though you're looking a little more buff since I saw you last." Dean carefully rolls away and to his feet, padding softly over to the wardrobe for the required items.

Sam watches him unashamedly, eyes fixating on that pert little ass of Dean's. He really should be feeling bad for doing so, but he'll sort it all out later. Especially with Castiel; they really need to talk about today.

Sam quickly strips down to his boxers and socks, perched on the edge of Dean's bed as he waits for some sort of garment to cover himself with.

Dean returns to the bed with two hangers - one for each of them - and promptly undresses. It's slow and teasing, a deliberate act to make Sam lose his cool.

"You're a pain in my ass, you know that?" Sam gripes playfully, hanging his clothes up on the curtain rail, before snatching a tee shirt Dean had picked out.

"Yeah, but you like it. I can tell." Dean smirks, moving away briefly to hang the suit in the wardrobe. He pulls on his own tee shirt, taking a moment to admire Sam wearing something of his. Even if it was a little shorter on the taller man. "Looks good."

"What does?" Sam frowns, momentarily confused. Probably because he can't stop himself from checking Dean out. Dammit...

"My shirt on you. Course, it means I get to see your navel." He winks, plodding back to the bed. "You'd look better with nothing on, though.."

"Nice try, mister. You'll have to do better than that." Sam snickers, reclining back against the pillow, ankles crossed, arms behind his head.

"Are you suggesting something?" Dean climbs onto the bed, crawling up with an almost predatory look that sends a frisson of apprehension rolling down Sam's spine. Dean pauses mid-crawl, straddling Sam's thighs.

"I-I..." Sam stutters nervously: throat tight with an invisible lump that he just can't seem to shift, no matter how much swallowing he tries. "Is that a good idea?" His voice drops to a whisper, feeling most self-conscious now all the attention is focused on him.

Dean exhales slowly, hesitating in his advances, worrying his lower lip between straight teeth. "No. You're right. It's fine.. We should totally watch that movie. If you still want to?" Sam can't help but note that Dean looks a little pained..

"Clowns? Are you going to cover my eyes at the scary parts?" Sam tentatively reaches up to brush the flat of his palm over his flank. This is his way of apologising - giving comfort. Only, he hopes that Dean understands. This whole thing is a mess.

"I promise." Dean crosses his heart and slides back to press a tender kiss to Sam's left hip, before slinking away to turn the TV on. Sam wonders what the benefit of having one in a bedroom would be. He watches Dean flick through Netflix and wriggles under the blankets.

Movie ready, Dean grabs the donuts and rejoins Sam in the bed, casually tangling their legs together as he presses play on the remote.

Dean lives up to his word, valiantly protecting Sam from the dangers of the evil clown, even goes as far as to rub comforting circles on one of Sam's thick thighs. Which is heavenly, really.

"Are you doing anything tonight?" Dean asks, once the movie is over, and they've redressed, after checking that Sam isn't traumatised. He's currently pushing the front door open, one flask tucked under his arm. Sam watches his curious glance and shakes his head. 

"The guys will be coming home, so I thought they'd like a movie to unwind with. You wanna come?" Sam fishes out Jess's car keys from his suit pants pocket.

"Only if I can bring Die Hard." Dean sets the flasks into the backseat and closes the car door quietly.

"Tell me, you're not an action buff..." Sam groans playfully, sliding into the driver's seat, door open to talk to Dean. Dean makes a soft protest at that comment, leaning against the baby blue paintwork.

"It's either that or I'll bring the Terminator." He squares his shoulders, grinning widely. It's clear to Sam that he's proud, an adrenaline junkie.

"Fine. Any action films. But /no/ Michael Bay." Sam laughs, fastening his seatbelt with a soft click. "Tarantino is fine, by the way. Kill Bill especially. Bring that and I'll love you forever." He jokes.

"Deal. I'm bringing that tonight!" Dean sounds excited, which is endearing and oddly pleasing to say the least. Sam can't help but smile.

"Come on then, I'll write down my dorm number, come whenever you like. Just text me first?" He twists around to reach for the notepad and pen left in the back of the car, shirt bunching up. He doesn't expect the other man to take the opportunity to have a feel: a warm hand sliding under his half untucked shirt. Shivering, he turns back to face Dean, not attempting to dislodge the hand currently stroking his abdomen. He shakily exhales, taking a moment to stop the slight tremble in his hand.

"God damn, Sammy. Do you work out?" Dean grunts roughly, trailing up the sculpted muscles, lip between his teeth. Sam almost drops the notepad, gripping the pen tight.

"I-I uh. Yeah. Yes, I do." He stumbles, scribbling his address down before he loses his mind completely. Dean takes the pad from him with his free hand, lightly pinching a nipple. "Mmh! Dean!" He gasps, dropping the pen with a quiet clatter.

"Shh.." Dean whispers, leaning in to lick the shell of Sam's ear, withdrawing his hand to tear off the sheet of paper. "I'll bring supplies too, seeing as you've been very intriguing today." 

Dean pulls away, pocketing the note. "I'll see you soon." He promises, leaving with a playful wink and sashay of his hips.


	22. Chapter 22

Sam arrives back to their dorm to find Charlie sat on the front steps, eyes twinkling with delight. "You're late. Fancied round two with the cute ass?" She's careful to keep her voice low, so as not to be overheard.

"Hello to you too." Sam greets, locking up Jess' car. "You know, you have the spare key. You didn't need to wait out here for me." He skirts around her obvious question, moving to open the front door. "Oh, and you'd better not hog the couch tonight. 'Cute ass' is coming over."

Charlie squeals with delight. "Finally! You two are /perfect/ for each other! My work here is done!" She skips in behind him, closing the door with a click.

"Charlie, we aren't together. He's just coming to watch a film.." Sam frowns, slipping out of his shoes, Charlie mimics him. He hangs up his satchel and heads through the kitchen to put his flasks in the sink.

"Is he bringing his own film?" She's still there, practically glued to his side, smiling brightly.

"Well yeah, but you do too." Sam points out, arms folding defensively. He didn't see the point in that one. "It's just one film.."

"Yeah. And I bet you asked for your favourite." She replies knowingly, prodding him gently on the arm. "You're in too deep, Sam. He'll break your heart if you're not careful."

Sam frowns, a little hurt at the assumption. He's not weak, working with Dean will be fine. What could possibly go wrong? "Are you saying that I'm not good enough for him?"

Charlie holds her hands up in surrender. "Gosh Sammy, no, I'd never say that! It's him I'm concerned about. You've known him for two months, and he's already pulling tricks. I just want my boy to be happy." She wraps her arms around him in a tight hug. 

Sam automatically returns the gesture, holding her in a bear-hug. "I shan't let him do anything else yet. I promise I'll be careful, okay? You're so good to me, Charlie. I'd be lost without you."

"You're gonna make me cry, Sam Campbell!" Charlie laughs happily, trying her hardest not to cry. "God, I wish we weren't both gay. I'd marry you right this second!"

Sam chuckles and slowly lets go, taking her tiny hand in his large one. "Where's Cas? I need to talk this through with him."

"Out getting snacks and dinner with Jess."

"You can give Fizz her dinner, she'll be happy to see you." He pulls her into the kitchen, making kissy noises to the cat, who's currently winding around their legs.

"You know how much I love her." Charlie bends to pick the fluffy white feline up, pressing a soft kiss to her little pink nose.

"She loves you too." He moves away to run himself a cold glass of water. "You know where her tuna is?"

"Already on it, Mr. Samwise!" She teases playfully, carrying the cat over to the counter. The soft meowing and the cupboard opening confirms his thoughts, and he takes a large gulp of the refreshing liquid.

"You can't call me that tonight!" He grumbles amusedly, glancing over at her. "I might need something else besides pizza.." He sets the glass down on the counter.

Charlie giggles softly and moves to give him another hug. "That's what she said! Leave it all to me, Mr. Samwise! Go and get changed for your not-date." She ushers him out of the kitchen.

Laughing, and a little nervous, Sam charges up the stairs to get changed. He can't help but wonder what Dean will be wearing. Now is not the time to let his mind wander. Undressing in double quick time, he hangs up the rented suit and rummages for his favourite jeans.

His heart is beating rapidly, stomach all fluttery, and he can't seem to get Dean out of his head. Jeans on, he tries to find a tee shirt that doesn't have a hole in. Nope, too geeky for a first not-date. He puts that one back, pulling out his red flannel shirt and a charcoal grey tee that may or may not be related to Starbucks and Star Wars.

He pulls them on and rolls up his flannel sleeves before heading back downstairs. Charlie is now in the lounge, TV on and is dusting.

"Have you picked up all your dirty laundry?" She teases, spraying polish on the coffee table and rubs vigorously. This is mother-hen Charlie mode. Only the best for potential boyfriends, which makes him all the more nervous.

"Yes, mom." Sam mumbles, cheeks heating. "Does that mean I'm allowed boys in my room?" She flings the duster at him.

"No. There will be no copulating while I am present, thank you very much!" 

"Gross!" He pulls a face, chucking the duster back. He goes to open the windows, attempting to air out the smell of polish.

"Has he said what time he's coming?" She wipes the TV screen clean. Sam shakes his head, lifting the spray can. 

"I asked him to text before he sets off." He bites back the feeling growing in his throat. "He's bringing beer too."

Charlie turns to face him, grinning happily. "I think he's wooing you! It'll be flowers and chocolates next!"

"I don't need wooing. He's already seen..." He trails off, blushing with embarrassment. "Well. That's probably why you're here."

Charlie raises her eyebrows. "Already? Tell me you've not fucked yet?" She looks worried.

"No! He came on to me, and he kinda..."

"Spit it out Sam, I'm your best friend!"

"...Sucked my dick..."

Charlie gasps loudly and practically screams in his ear. Sam attempts to hold her at bay, though her tickling proves it futile.

"Charlie! Stop that!" He laughs, trying his best to defend himself, body doubling over in an attempt to protect himself, tears leaking from his eyes.

"I never thought such a big guy like you would be so ticklish! I'm so going to tell Dean!" She crows happily, taking the spray back into the kitchen. Sam sits down on the couch, staring nervously at his phone.

He considers in sending Dean a text, but would that make him sound needy? This was supposed to be a casual hang out, a chance to relax after a long day at work. He find himself already in his messages, the blinking line awaiting his typed reply. He groans quietly and hits the cancel button, dropping his phone into his lap, face buried in his palms.

It's all too much. Having a crush and wanting a relationship are two different things. Sam has expectations, and understandably, if they aren't met he'll feel crushed. It is the fear of not knowing that weighs heavy in his stomach. That small voice in the back of his head whispers that he isn't good enough. And there's the rub. He is afraid of losing everything.

"Sam, honey. I made coffee." Charlie's hand rests gently on his shoulder, warm and steady. "Come on, darling, it'll be okay." She sets the mug down on a novelty coaster. "I'm not going to leave you to struggle through this alone. You can't get rid of me that easily." She laughs fondly, tone soothing Sam.

She sits down beside him, turning his stiff body towards her. "Come on, Moose. Give your little sister a hug."

He flops down against her, face buried against her neck. "You wish." Is his muffled reply, allowing himself to be held.

"Yeah. I do wish. You're like a big brother to me. I think I might have to adopt you." She kisses his hair, stroking gentle circles between his shoulder blades. "Do you need me to ring him?" Sam groans quietly, protesting. "Okay. I'm sure he'll be here soon." 

There's a click to the door as Jess and Castiel let themselves in. Sam can smell pizza, and it makes his mouth water. "Is that pepperoni?" He calls out, comfortable laying on Charlie for the time being.

"Hello to you too, gorgeous!" Castiel greets, feigning offence at being ignored in favour of pizza. "Good tutoring session?" There's a slight hint of something which Sam can't quite fathom out.

"It was okay. Despite Dean wanting to watch Stephen King's It..." He clears his throat and tries not to shudder. Charlie makes a soft soothing sound and continues stroking through his hair, which is probably a bird's nest by now.

"I thought you liked horror movies?" Cas approaches the couch, without the pizza, Sam notes sadly. It's nice to see his face though.

"I do, but not clowns.." He watches Cas kneel on the floor in front of the couch. "Childhood phobia." He explains, worrying his lip, feeling a little ridiculous.

"We all have our fears, honey." Jess soothes, switching on the lamps as it steadily grows darker outside.

"Did you bring enough for another one? We invited Dean to come over." Charlie moves the subject along. If Castiel is annoyed, he certainly doesn't show it.

The somewhat tense silence is disturbed by a purring engine that seems to grow louder as it approaches. Headlights lighting up the lounge as it trundles up the smooth driveway. Charlie lets out a soft noise of appreciation.

She gently rouses him, smoothing down tangled hair with her compact brush.

Sam rubs his eyes and turns on the two lamps either side of the couch, gulping at his coffee before padding to the front door.

"I hope I'm not too late." Dean's gruff voice has Sam looking hurriedly up, and damn, soft brown hair is gelled up into spikes. Sam has never been happier.

"Not at all! Come on in. Shoes off!" Sam pulls back to make room, taking the eight-pack of beer from him. Dean closes the door behind him, toeing off thick, tan coloured boots.

Sam hurries to the kitchen for a bottle opener, leading Dean into the lounge on his way back. "Was the traffic bad?" He asked, gesturing for Dean to sit beside him, Castiel on his other side.

"A little. I had to go to the store for the beer. The queue was hell itself." He passes Sam the DVD and sits down with a quiet thump.

"Sounds about right.. I like to stock up on beer, saves having to do that too often. Thanks." He sets the DVD case on the coffee table and opens a beer for everyone. "Jess and Charlie are arranging tonight's food." 

"Gotcha. Something smells good!" He comments, taking a sip from his chilled bottle, inhaling deeply. Sam chuckles and takes a swig of his own. 

"We brought in two large pepperoni pizzas and plenty of fries." Cas inputs grinning widely at Dean.

"Mmm. Sounds tasty!" Dean makes a soft sound of appreciation. "Does she need any help?"

"I'm sure she'll shout when it's ready. She usually sticks it all on one tray to carry through." He stands to go and close the curtains, turning the TV on in the process.

"It's a nice little dorm you've got here." Dean comments, sipping his beer while he watches Sam.

"Thanks. Couldn't keep it tidy without the help from my girls." Sam smiles warmly, adjusting the volume. He crosses back to pick up the DVD, gently lifting the disk out to pop in the player. "This is my favourite film."

"Yeah? One of mine too. Though its a big list to sort through." Dean chuckles. "The choreography is sweet as fuck. Not to mention bad ass!"

"And here I was, thinking you only watched it for Uma Thurman!" Sam teases, closing the disk tray.

"As cool as she is, she's not my type. At all. Now, if she were a dude, eh, possibly." He waves his bottle dismissively, patting the seat beside him. "You gonna stand there all night?"

"Coming, /Bill!/" Sam snorts, quietly stomping over to flop down on the couch. Dean grunts and shoves him gently.

Charlie returns a few minutes later with some napkins and the huge tray of food. "You've not started without me? Move over Sam, your fat ass is hogging Castiel's seat!" She teases, setting the tray onto the coffee table, before joining Jess in the armchair. 

Sam shuffles over, thigh bumping Dean's. "It's not fat! It's muscled!" He protests, hitting play on the remote and lifts the tray into his lap.

Dean chuckles quietly and reaches for a slice of pizza, content to stuff his face. Sam rolls his eyes, taking a bite of pizza for himself.

Dean chuckles quietly and reaches for a slice of pizza, content to stuff his face. Sam rolls his eyes, taking a bite of pizza for himself.

By the middle of the film, they've practically demolished the whole lot, Dean looking as though he's slipping into a food coma; one hand on his slightly bloated belly, the other lifts his beer to his lips. Sam decides that he likes this look. He quietly sets the tray down on the coffee table, before pulling Cas into a warm cuddle.

Dean spares them a glance, one eyebrow raised in a curious gesture, before promptly flopping down against Sam's side. "Hold me then!" He teases playfully, swigging his beer. Castiel reaches over to lightly bop Dean over the head, which results in the two having a mock fight, hands slapping uselessly at each other.

"Don't fight over me, you two!" Sam laughs, very amused. "Behave and watch the film." He doesn't cuddle either of them until they've calmed down , helping himself to another beer.

The film soon finishes, much to Sam's dismay. Cas is asleep beside him, and Dean is burrowing into Sam's side. Jess and Charlie have already gone to bed.

"You cold?" He whispers, wrapping his arms around the man. It feels tender, natural. Like this was what Sam had needed. Dean shifts in his arms, head tilting back to look up at Sam, resting against his shoulder. Time seems to slow around them, only for them. Dean's lips are pursed, and damn, Sam wants to kiss him something wicked.

"A little." Dean whispers, breath ghosting across Sam's face, green eyes transfixed upon him. One hand tentatively reaches up to stroke Sam's cheek, pulling him down.

"I can't get you like that..." Sam breathes, hands reaching for Dean's hips, attempting to pull the man into his lap. Dean soon gets the idea, one leg lifting over Sam's thighs to straddle him.

The warmth is instant, firm bodyweight pressed against him. Sam wraps one arm around Dean, and pulls him in for a soft kiss. It's gentle, slow and almost loving, completely different to what they shared that morning, but is still feels right. Dean's hands are in his hair, tipping his head back for better access. Sam groans quietly at the tongue wriggling into his mouth: the sound is muffled by Dean's hot mouth, tongue rubbing against his.

He can taste Dean's beer, finally smell that cologne - dark and spicy with hints of cinnamon and musk, skin and faint sweat linger beneath. 

His free hand trails up Dean's back, smoothing over firm muscle, hard shoulders, caresses his neck, strong jaw, high cheekbones, and buries itself into short, soft brown hair.

This is a moment he never wants to end.

"If you could include me in your little tryst, I'd be very happy to share, Dean." Castiel interrupts them. He'd obviously been watching them, the sly devil. "I can't crash on the couch, if you two are groping each other." There's amusement in the tone of his voice, Sam knows he'll have to question all of this later.

He can feel Dean's heart hammer with surprise, cheeks darkening with a dusky pink. Sam just wants to ravish him right there. He bucks his hips in a playful manner, feeling Dean's growing erection. The little shit! He's getting off on being caught!

"Alright. You'd better come along to make sure he doesn't steal me." He teases, watching Dean slide off his lap and stand before him, expression hungry.

"Oh, I'm there. Don't you worry." Cas slowly pushes upright, briefly moving away to turn the electrical items off. 

Sam laughs quietly, heaving himself to his feet. "Come on you," He claps his hand against Dean's ass. "lets get you some pyjamas!" He teases playfully, leading Dean out and up to his bedroom.

He doesn't get much of a chance to get through the doorway, when Dean practically jumps him, forcefully pushing them towards the bed. They land in a heap with a dull thud, Sam face down into the covers, Dean rutting against his ass.

"Your boyfriend is a kinky bitch, you know that?" Dean grunts, giving one ass cheek a firm slap, hips chasing after it.

"Sounds like someone else is too." Sam comments, craning his head to glance over a shoulder. He can feel his dick growing just by the rough handling alone.

"Not gonna lie, I love it." He slaps the other ass cheek and wriggles back. "Can you just have a naked movie night the next time? Clothes are a hindrance."

Sam laughs quietly, rolling onto his back, unfastening his jeans. "That sounds dangerously close to a bad porno... Would shorts and a tee shirt be okay? I'd have to crank the heating up though."

"Anything in which resulted in having you naked in the five minutes or less, would be greatly appreciated." Dean stands to strip out of his clothes, and damn, this is the first time Sam will have seen him naked...

"What about onesies? Are you particularly averse to those?" Sam wants to approach him with the whole dating question, but he doesn't know how.

"Tell me you don't have one..?" Dean lets his tee fall to the floor, and Sam revels in firm muscles and tight belly. He's not as heavily muscled as Sam, but it's a very attractive sight.

"Superman." He replies, kicking out of his jeans. "I modified the pockets so I could pee easier."

Dean smirks at him, eyes darkening. "You dirty dog! I bet that's not all you did it for!" Sam hums softly, fighting a smirk.

"Maybe..." Sam replies nonchalantly, sitting up to pull his flannel and tee shirt off, sat there in socks and boxers. "So you want me naked, huh? Whatever for?"

Dean laughs and pushes his jeans down. "Depends. Want another blow, or perhaps I can try something else?" He steps towards the bed, playing with the waistband of his boxers.

Sam's cheeks are hot, and he has to look away for a moment. "I-I'm not ready for sex yet... It's complicated..." He can feel the pressure in his chest, lump forming in his throat.

"Hey... Sammy, it's okay... I respect your wishes." Dean sits on the edge of the bed, reaching out to tentatively rest a hand on Sam's thigh. "If you don't want to tell me, that's okay. I won't pressure you into anything." Sam has to admit, he's finding this side to Dean far more attractive.

"Perhaps another time...? What are we?" He sits up to look at the shorter brunet, wishing he could just hide.

"What would you like us to be? Friends? Study buddies?" Dean takes Sam's hand in his, thumb rubbing soothingly across his knuckles.

It's at that moment that Castiel joins them in the room. He smiles at them both before beginning to undress. "Sam, we need to talk about all this."

Sam's breath catches in his throat. "Yes. Did you arrange the whole suit thing earlier?" His mouth is dry and palms sweating, but he needs to be brave. Just like ripping off a band aid.

"We did." Cas replies, gesturing between himself and Dean. "Sam, I know this may seem a little confusing, and I don't want to take advantage of your gentle nature. I'm polyamorous, and while Dean is my best friend, I've become attached to the both of you. It doesn't mean that I necessarily want sex with Dean, but I am open to letting him build a relationship with you too."

Sam furrows his brow as he thinks it over. "But what if you get hurt, Cas? What if I get hurt?" He glances nervously between them.

"Sammy. We're all consenting adults here. We can work things out." Dean nods towards Castiel. "There's no rushing this, plenty of time to figure out the details as we go along."

Cas folds his jeans and sets them on the dresser before joining them both on the bed. "If you fall for Dean, then I'll still be happy, knowing I've brought you together." He reaches over to stroke Sam's face. "Trust me on this one."

"I can't be physical in that way... Not until I've sorted myself out." Sam's voice is soft and meek, already afraid that he'll be rebuffed come the the big push.

"Sam, it's okay. Sex isn't everything. I like you, okay? I know a good thing when I see it, and I'm not going to throw this chance away. Besides, you are worth more than that." Dean lifts their hands to kiss them softly. "I-I'm just no good when it comes to public affection." 

Cas shuffles closer to them. "And if you need public affection at any time, then I will be there to help Dean comfort you."

"I don't expect you to bend over backwards for me..." Sam dares to cling to that tiny spark of hope, meeting Castiel's blue gaze. "I'm sorry for blowing hot and cold on you..."

"Don't be. C'mon, I'll give you a cuddle before we sleep. Or we can talk some more? It's up to you." Cas replies as Dean lays down, gently tugging Sam with him, their hands still laced together.

"Thank you, Cas. It means the world to me." He takes a deep breath, staring up at the ceiling.

"Like I said, you are very deserving of affection. Respect too." He lays down on Sam's opposite side, rolled over so he can rest his head on Sam's chest.

Dean stretches out in a similar position. "I had fun today, thanks for inviting me." Sam feels very much comforted by all this affection.

"No problem. I'm glad that you wanted to come. You don't think we're rushing things?" Sam tilts his head to watch him, enjoying the side profile of Dean's face.

"Sam, I remember your first day here. You were possibly more clumsy than you are now. It was endearing, and I wanted to know you. You seemed so shy though, kinda withdrawn, so I waited until I saw that you had grown in confidence, as well as strength.. I'm glad Cas found you at that bar!" He playfully prods Sam's pecs. "Now, anymore mush and I'll have a cavity!"

Sam smiles warmly, pulling them both closer still. "I think I liked you both from day one. Its just I thought you were scary, unapproachable. Hell, I didn't even know you were gay! I didn't want to ruin things, because I wasn't ready. Wasn't even in the right headspace..."

"Don't be upset, but if anyone's ever hurt you, I will drive over to their house, and make them pay." Dean growls, Cas makes a soft agreeing sound.

Sam worries his lip nervously. "Dean... You don't need to do that... It's all in the past."

"It's not though. It's still conflicting with you, and it's not healthy babe. I don't want to see you sad." Dean rolls onto his side, elbow propping his head up. Sam just wants to hide away from everything. He doesn't deserve this kind of happiness.

"We're here for you, okay? You don't have to worry about anything. I got you, Sammy." Castiel strokes over Sam's ribs.

Sam closes his eyes and takes a shaky breath, glancing over to watch him shyly. He blames the beer. He's never been so fragile.. "Thank you."

"Come on now, we should get some sleep. Gonna be a long day tomorrow." Dean pulls the blankets over them all.


	23. Chapter 23

Sam arrives back to their dorm to find Charlie sat on the front steps, eyes twinkling with delight. "You're late. Fancied round two with the cute ass?" She's careful to keep her voice low, so as not to be overheard.

"Hello to you too." Sam greets, locking up Jess' car. "You know, you have the spare key. You didn't need to wait out here for me." He skirts around her obvious question, moving to open the front door. "Oh, and you'd better not hog the couch tonight. 'Cute ass' is coming over."

Charlie squeals with delight. "Finally! You two are /perfect/ for each other! My work here is done!" She skips in behind him, closing the door with a click.

"Charlie, we aren't together. He's just coming to watch a film.." Sam frowns, slipping out of his shoes, Charlie mimics him. He hangs up his satchel and heads through the kitchen to put his flasks in the sink.

"Is he bringing his own film?" She's still there, practically glued to his side, smiling brightly.

"Well yeah, but you do too." Sam points out, arms folding defensively. He didn't see the point in that one. "It's just one film.."

"Yeah. And I bet you asked for your favourite." She replies knowingly, prodding him gently on the arm. "You're in too deep, Sam. He'll break your heart if you're not careful."

Sam frowns, a little hurt at the assumption. He's not weak, working with Dean will be fine. What could possibly go wrong? "Are you saying that I'm not good enough for him?"

Charlie holds her hands up in surrender. "Gosh Sammy, no, I'd never say that! It's him I'm concerned about. You've known him for two months, and he's already pulling tricks. I just want my boy to be happy." She wraps her arms around him in a tight hug. 

Sam automatically returns the gesture, holding her in a bear-hug. "I shan't let him do anything else yet. I promise I'll be careful, okay? You're so good to me, Charlie. I'd be lost without you."

"You're gonna make me cry, Sam Campbell!" Charlie laughs happily, trying her hardest not to cry. "God, I wish we weren't both gay. I'd marry you right this second!"

Sam chuckles and slowly lets go, taking her tiny hand in his large one. "Where's Cas? I need to talk this through with him."

"Out getting snacks and dinner with Jess."

"You can give Fizz her dinner, she'll be happy to see you." He pulls her into the kitchen, making kissy noises to the cat, who's currently winding around their legs.

"You know how much I love her." Charlie bends to pick the fluffy white feline up, pressing a soft kiss to her little pink nose.

"She loves you too." He moves away to run himself a cold glass of water. "You know where her tuna is?"

"Already on it, Mr. Samwise!" She teases playfully, carrying the cat over to the counter. The soft meowing and the cupboard opening confirms his thoughts, and he takes a large gulp of the refreshing liquid.

"You can't call me that tonight!" He grumbles amusedly, glancing over at her. "I might need something else besides pizza.." He sets the glass down on the counter.

Charlie giggles softly and moves to give him another hug. "That's what she said! Leave it all to me, Mr. Samwise! Go and get changed for your not-date." She ushers him out of the kitchen.

Laughing, and a little nervous, Sam charges up the stairs to get changed. He can't help but wonder what Dean will be wearing. Now is not the time to let his mind wander. Undressing in double quick time, he hangs up the rented suit and rummages for his favourite jeans.

His heart is beating rapidly, stomach all fluttery, and he can't seem to get Dean out of his head. Jeans on, he tries to find a tee shirt that doesn't have a hole in. Nope, too geeky for a first not-date. He puts that one back, pulling out his red flannel shirt and a charcoal grey tee that may or may not be related to Starbucks and Star Wars.

He pulls them on and rolls up his flannel sleeves before heading back downstairs. Charlie is now in the lounge, TV on and is dusting.

"Have you picked up all your dirty laundry?" She teases, spraying polish on the coffee table and rubs vigorously. This is mother-hen Charlie mode. Only the best for potential boyfriends, which makes him all the more nervous.

"Yes, mom." Sam mumbles, cheeks heating. "Does that mean I'm allowed boys in my room?" She flings the duster at him.

"No. There will be no copulating while I am present, thank you very much!" 

"Gross!" He pulls a face, chucking the duster back. He goes to open the windows, attempting to air out the smell of polish.

"Has he said what time he's coming?" She wipes the TV screen clean. Sam shakes his head, lifting the spray can. 

"I asked him to text before he sets off." He bites back the feeling growing in his throat. "He's bringing beer too."

Charlie turns to face him, grinning happily. "I think he's wooing you! It'll be flowers and chocolates next!"

"I don't need wooing. He's already seen..." He trails off, blushing with embarrassment. "Well. That's probably why you're here."

Charlie raises her eyebrows. "Already? Tell me you've not fucked yet?" She looks worried.

"No! He came on to me, and he kinda..."

"Spit it out Sam, I'm your best friend!"

"...Sucked my dick..."

Charlie gasps loudly and practically screams in his ear. Sam attempts to hold her at bay, though her tickling proves it futile.

"Charlie! Stop that!" He laughs, trying his best to defend himself, body doubling over in an attempt to protect himself, tears leaking from his eyes.

"I never thought such a big guy like you would be so ticklish! I'm so going to tell Dean!" She crows happily, taking the spray back into the kitchen. Sam sits down on the couch, staring nervously at his phone.

He considers in sending Dean a text, but would that make him sound needy? This was supposed to be a casual hang out, a chance to relax after a long day at work. He find himself already in his messages, the blinking line awaiting his typed reply. He groans quietly and hits the cancel button, dropping his phone into his lap, face buried in his palms.

It's all too much. Having a crush and wanting a relationship are two different things. Sam has expectations, and understandably, if they aren't met he'll feel crushed. It is the fear of not knowing that weighs heavy in his stomach. That small voice in the back of his head whispers that he isn't good enough. And there's the rub. He is afraid of losing everything.

"Sam, honey. I made coffee." Charlie's hand rests gently on his shoulder, warm and steady. "Come on, darling, it'll be okay." She sets the mug down on a novelty coaster. "I'm not going to leave you to struggle through this alone. You can't get rid of me that easily." She laughs fondly, tone soothing Sam.

She sits down beside him, turning his stiff body towards her. "Come on, Moose. Give your little sister a hug."

He flops down against her, face buried against her neck. "You wish." Is his muffled reply, allowing himself to be held.

"Yeah. I do wish. You're like a big brother to me. I think I might have to adopt you." She kisses his hair, stroking gentle circles between his shoulder blades. "Do you need me to ring him?" Sam groans quietly, protesting. "Okay. I'm sure he'll be here soon." 

There's a click to the door as Jess and Castiel let themselves in. Sam can smell pizza, and it makes his mouth water. "Is that pepperoni?" He calls out, comfortable laying on Charlie for the time being.

"Hello to you too, gorgeous!" Castiel greets, feigning offence at being ignored in favour of pizza. "Good tutoring session?" There's a slight hint of something which Sam can't quite fathom out.

"It was okay. Despite Dean wanting to watch Stephen King's It..." He clears his throat and tries not to shudder. Charlie makes a soft soothing sound and continues stroking through his hair, which is probably a bird's nest by now.

"I thought you liked horror movies?" Cas approaches the couch, without the pizza, Sam notes sadly. It's nice to see his face though.

"I do, but not clowns.." He watches Cas kneel on the floor in front of the couch. "Childhood phobia." He explains, worrying his lip, feeling a little ridiculous.

"We all have our fears, honey." Jess soothes, switching on the lamps as it steadily grows darker outside.

"Did you bring enough for another one? We invited Dean to come over." Charlie moves the subject along. If Castiel is annoyed, he certainly doesn't show it.

The somewhat tense silence is disturbed by a purring engine that seems to grow louder as it approaches. Headlights lighting up the lounge as it trundles up the smooth driveway. Charlie lets out a soft noise of appreciation.

She gently rouses him, smoothing down tangled hair with her compact brush.

Sam rubs his eyes and turns on the two lamps either side of the couch, gulping at his coffee before padding to the front door.

"I hope I'm not too late." Dean's gruff voice has Sam looking hurriedly up, and damn, soft brown hair is gelled up into spikes. Sam has never been happier.

"Not at all! Come on in. Shoes off!" Sam pulls back to make room, taking the eight-pack of beer from him. Dean closes the door behind him, toeing off thick, tan coloured boots.

Sam hurries to the kitchen for a bottle opener, leading Dean into the lounge on his way back. "Was the traffic bad?" He asked, gesturing for Dean to sit beside him, Castiel on his other side.

"A little. I had to go to the store for the beer. The queue was hell itself." He passes Sam the DVD and sits down with a quiet thump.

"Sounds about right.. I like to stock up on beer, saves having to do that too often. Thanks." He sets the DVD case on the coffee table and opens a beer for everyone. "Jess and Charlie are arranging tonight's food." 

"Gotcha. Something smells good!" He comments, taking a sip from his chilled bottle, inhaling deeply. Sam chuckles and takes a swig of his own. 

"We brought in two large pepperoni pizzas and plenty of fries." Cas inputs grinning widely at Dean.

"Mmm. Sounds tasty!" Dean makes a soft sound of appreciation. "Does she need any help?"

"I'm sure she'll shout when it's ready. She usually sticks it all on one tray to carry through." He stands to go and close the curtains, turning the TV on in the process.

"It's a nice little dorm you've got here." Dean comments, sipping his beer while he watches Sam.

"Thanks. Couldn't keep it tidy without the help from my girls." Sam smiles warmly, adjusting the volume. He crosses back to pick up the DVD, gently lifting the disk out to pop in the player. "This is my favourite film."

"Yeah? One of mine too. Though its a big list to sort through." Dean chuckles. "The choreography is sweet as fuck. Not to mention bad ass!"

"And here I was, thinking you only watched it for Uma Thurman!" Sam teases, closing the disk tray.

"As cool as she is, she's not my type. At all. Now, if she were a dude, eh, possibly." He waves his bottle dismissively, patting the seat beside him. "You gonna stand there all night?"

"Coming, /Bill!/" Sam snorts, quietly stomping over to flop down on the couch. Dean grunts and shoves him gently.

Charlie returns a few minutes later with some napkins and the huge tray of food. "You've not started without me? Move over Sam, your fat ass is hogging Castiel's seat!" She teases, setting the tray onto the coffee table, before joining Jess in the armchair. 

Sam shuffles over, thigh bumping Dean's. "It's not fat! It's muscled!" He protests, hitting play on the remote and lifts the tray into his lap.

Dean chuckles quietly and reaches for a slice of pizza, content to stuff his face. Sam rolls his eyes, taking a bite of pizza for himself.

Dean chuckles quietly and reaches for a slice of pizza, content to stuff his face. Sam rolls his eyes, taking a bite of pizza for himself.

By the middle of the film, they've practically demolished the whole lot, Dean looking as though he's slipping into a food coma; one hand on his slightly bloated belly, the other lifts his beer to his lips. Sam decides that he likes this look. He quietly sets the tray down on the coffee table, before pulling Cas into a warm cuddle.

Dean spares them a glance, one eyebrow raised in a curious gesture, before promptly flopping down against Sam's side. "Hold me then!" He teases playfully, swigging his beer. Castiel reaches over to lightly bop Dean over the head, which results in the two having a mock fight, hands slapping uselessly at each other.

"Don't fight over me, you two!" Sam laughs, very amused. "Behave and watch the film." He doesn't cuddle either of them until they've calmed down , helping himself to another beer.

The film soon finishes, much to Sam's dismay. Cas is asleep beside him, and Dean is burrowing into Sam's side. Jess and Charlie have already gone to bed.

"You cold?" He whispers, wrapping his arms around the man. It feels tender, natural. Like this was what Sam had needed. Dean shifts in his arms, head tilting back to look up at Sam, resting against his shoulder. Time seems to slow around them, only for them. Dean's lips are pursed, and damn, Sam wants to kiss him something wicked.

"A little." Dean whispers, breath ghosting across Sam's face, green eyes transfixed upon him. One hand tentatively reaches up to stroke Sam's cheek, pulling him down.

"I can't get you like that..." Sam breathes, hands reaching for Dean's hips, attempting to pull the man into his lap. Dean soon gets the idea, one leg lifting over Sam's thighs to straddle him.

The warmth is instant, firm bodyweight pressed against him. Sam wraps one arm around Dean, and pulls him in for a soft kiss. It's gentle, slow and almost loving, completely different to what they shared that morning, but is still feels right. Dean's hands are in his hair, tipping his head back for better access. Sam groans quietly at the tongue wriggling into his mouth: the sound is muffled by Dean's hot mouth, tongue rubbing against his.

He can taste Dean's beer, finally smell that cologne - dark and spicy with hints of cinnamon and musk, skin and faint sweat linger beneath. 

His free hand trails up Dean's back, smoothing over firm muscle, hard shoulders, caresses his neck, strong jaw, high cheekbones, and buries itself into short, soft brown hair.

This is a moment he never wants to end.

"If you could include me in your little tryst, I'd be very happy to share, Dean." Castiel interrupts them. He'd obviously been watching them, the sly devil. "I can't crash on the couch, if you two are groping each other." There's amusement in the tone of his voice, Sam knows he'll have to question all of this later.

He can feel Dean's heart hammer with surprise, cheeks darkening with a dusky pink. Sam just wants to ravish him right there. He bucks his hips in a playful manner, feeling Dean's growing erection. The little shit! He's getting off on being caught!

"Alright. You'd better come along to make sure he doesn't steal me." He teases, watching Dean slide off his lap and stand before him, expression hungry.

"Oh, I'm there. Don't you worry." Cas slowly pushes upright, briefly moving away to turn the electrical items off. 

Sam laughs quietly, heaving himself to his feet. "Come on you," He claps his hand against Dean's ass. "lets get you some pyjamas!" He teases playfully, leading Dean out and up to his bedroom.

He doesn't get much of a chance to get through the doorway, when Dean practically jumps him, forcefully pushing them towards the bed. They land in a heap with a dull thud, Sam face down into the covers, Dean rutting against his ass.

"Your boyfriend is a kinky bitch, you know that?" Dean grunts, giving one ass cheek a firm slap, hips chasing after it.

"Sounds like someone else is too." Sam comments, craning his head to glance over a shoulder. He can feel his dick growing just by the rough handling alone.

"Not gonna lie, I love it." He slaps the other ass cheek and wriggles back. "Can you just have a naked movie night the next time? Clothes are a hindrance."

Sam laughs quietly, rolling onto his back, unfastening his jeans. "That sounds dangerously close to a bad porno... Would shorts and a tee shirt be okay? I'd have to crank the heating up though."

"Anything in which resulted in having you naked in the five minutes or less, would be greatly appreciated." Dean stands to strip out of his clothes, and damn, this is the first time Sam will have seen him naked...

"What about onesies? Are you particularly averse to those?" Sam wants to approach him with the whole dating question, but he doesn't know how.

"Tell me you don't have one..?" Dean lets his tee fall to the floor, and Sam revels in firm muscles and tight belly. He's not as heavily muscled as Sam, but it's a very attractive sight.

"Superman." He replies, kicking out of his jeans. "I modified the pockets so I could pee easier."

Dean smirks at him, eyes darkening. "You dirty dog! I bet that's not all you did it for!" Sam hums softly, fighting a smirk.

"Maybe..." Sam replies nonchalantly, sitting up to pull his flannel and tee shirt off, sat there in socks and boxers. "So you want me naked, huh? Whatever for?"

Dean laughs and pushes his jeans down. "Depends. Want another blow, or perhaps I can try something else?" He steps towards the bed, playing with the waistband of his boxers.

Sam's cheeks are hot, and he has to look away for a moment. "I-I'm not ready for sex yet... It's complicated..." He can feel the pressure in his chest, lump forming in his throat.

"Hey... Sammy, it's okay... I respect your wishes." Dean sits on the edge of the bed, reaching out to tentatively rest a hand on Sam's thigh. "If you don't want to tell me, that's okay. I won't pressure you into anything." Sam has to admit, he's finding this side to Dean far more attractive.

"Perhaps another time...? What are we?" He sits up to look at the shorter brunet, wishing he could just hide.

"What would you like us to be? Friends? Study buddies?" Dean takes Sam's hand in his, thumb rubbing soothingly across his knuckles.

It's at that moment that Castiel joins them in the room. He smiles at them both before beginning to undress. "Sam, we need to talk about all this."

Sam's breath catches in his throat. "Yes. Did you arrange the whole suit thing earlier?" His mouth is dry and palms sweating, but he needs to be brave. Just like ripping off a band aid.

"We did." Cas replies, gesturing between himself and Dean. "Sam, I know this may seem a little confusing, and I don't want to take advantage of your gentle nature. I'm polyamorous, and while Dean is my best friend, I've become attached to the both of you. It doesn't mean that I necessarily want sex with Dean, but I am open to letting him build a relationship with you too."

Sam furrows his brow as he thinks it over. "But what if you get hurt, Cas? What if I get hurt?" He glances nervously between them.

"Sammy. We're all consenting adults here. We can work things out." Dean nods towards Castiel. "There's no rushing this, plenty of time to figure out the details as we go along."

Cas folds his jeans and sets them on the dresser before joining them both on the bed. "If you fall for Dean, then I'll still be happy, knowing I've brought you together." He reaches over to stroke Sam's face. "Trust me on this one."

"I can't be physical in that way... Not until I've sorted myself out." Sam's voice is soft and meek, already afraid that he'll be rebuffed come the the big push.

"Sam, it's okay. Sex isn't everything. I like you, okay? I know a good thing when I see it, and I'm not going to throw this chance away. Besides, you are worth more than that." Dean lifts their hands to kiss them softly. "I-I'm just no good when it comes to public affection." 

Cas shuffles closer to them. "And if you need public affection at any time, then I will be there to help Dean comfort you."

"I don't expect you to bend over backwards for me..." Sam dares to cling to that tiny spark of hope, meeting Castiel's blue gaze. "I'm sorry for blowing hot and cold on you..."

"Don't be. C'mon, I'll give you a cuddle before we sleep. Or we can talk some more? It's up to you." Cas replies as Dean lays down, gently tugging Sam with him, their hands still laced together.

"Thank you, Cas. It means the world to me." He takes a deep breath, staring up at the ceiling.

"Like I said, you are very deserving of affection. Respect too." He lays down on Sam's opposite side, rolled over so he can rest his head on Sam's chest.

Dean stretches out in a similar position. "I had fun today, thanks for inviting me." Sam feels very much comforted by all this affection.

"No problem. I'm glad that you wanted to come. You don't think we're rushing things?" Sam tilts his head to watch him, enjoying the side profile of Dean's face.

"Sam, I remember your first day here. You were possibly more clumsy than you are now. It was endearing, and I wanted to know you. You seemed so shy though, kinda withdrawn, so I waited until I saw that you had grown in confidence, as well as strength.. I'm glad Cas found you at that bar!" He playfully prods Sam's pecs. "Now, anymore mush and I'll have a cavity!"

Sam smiles warmly, pulling them both closer still. "I think I liked you both from day one. Its just I thought you were scary, unapproachable. Hell, I didn't even know you were gay! I didn't want to ruin things, because I wasn't ready. Wasn't even in the right headspace..."

"Don't be upset, but if anyone's ever hurt you, I will drive over to their house, and make them pay." Dean growls, Cas makes a soft agreeing sound.

Sam worries his lip nervously. "Dean... You don't need to do that... It's all in the past."

"It's not though. It's still conflicting with you, and it's not healthy babe. I don't want to see you sad." Dean rolls onto his side, elbow propping his head up. Sam just wants to hide away from everything. He doesn't deserve this kind of happiness.

"We're here for you, okay? You don't have to worry about anything. I got you, Sammy." Castiel strokes over Sam's ribs.

Sam closes his eyes and takes a shaky breath, glancing over to watch him shyly. He blames the beer. He's never been so fragile.. "Thank you."

"Come on now, we should get some sleep. Gonna be a long day tomorrow." Dean pulls the blankets over them all.


	24. Chapter 24

Sam arrives back to their dorm to find Charlie sat on the front steps, eyes twinkling with delight. "You're late. Fancied round two with the cute ass?" She's careful to keep her voice low, so as not to be overheard.

"Hello to you too." Sam greets, locking up Jess' car. "You know, you have the spare key. You didn't need to wait out here for me." He skirts around her obvious question, moving to open the front door. "Oh, and you'd better not hog the couch tonight. 'Cute ass' is coming over."

Charlie squeals with delight. "Finally! You two are /perfect/ for each other! My work here is done!" She skips in behind him, closing the door with a click.

"Charlie, we aren't together. He's just coming to watch a film.." Sam frowns, slipping out of his shoes, Charlie mimics him. He hangs up his satchel and heads through the kitchen to put his flasks in the sink.

"Is he bringing his own film?" She's still there, practically glued to his side, smiling brightly.

"Well yeah, but you do too." Sam points out, arms folding defensively. He didn't see the point in that one. "It's just one film.."

"Yeah. And I bet you asked for your favourite." She replies knowingly, prodding him gently on the arm. "You're in too deep, Sam. He'll break your heart if you're not careful."

Sam frowns, a little hurt at the assumption. He's not weak, working with Dean will be fine. What could possibly go wrong? "Are you saying that I'm not good enough for him?"

Charlie holds her hands up in surrender. "Gosh Sammy, no, I'd never say that! It's him I'm concerned about. You've known him for two months, and he's already pulling tricks. I just want my boy to be happy." She wraps her arms around him in a tight hug. 

Sam automatically returns the gesture, holding her in a bear-hug. "I shan't let him do anything else yet. I promise I'll be careful, okay? You're so good to me, Charlie. I'd be lost without you."

"You're gonna make me cry, Sam Campbell!" Charlie laughs happily, trying her hardest not to cry. "God, I wish we weren't both gay. I'd marry you right this second!"

Sam chuckles and slowly lets go, taking her tiny hand in his large one. "Where's Cas? I need to talk this through with him."

"Out getting snacks and dinner with Jess."

"You can give Fizz her dinner, she'll be happy to see you." He pulls her into the kitchen, making kissy noises to the cat, who's currently winding around their legs.

"You know how much I love her." Charlie bends to pick the fluffy white feline up, pressing a soft kiss to her little pink nose.

"She loves you too." He moves away to run himself a cold glass of water. "You know where her tuna is?"

"Already on it, Mr. Samwise!" She teases playfully, carrying the cat over to the counter. The soft meowing and the cupboard opening confirms his thoughts, and he takes a large gulp of the refreshing liquid.

"You can't call me that tonight!" He grumbles amusedly, glancing over at her. "I might need something else besides pizza.." He sets the glass down on the counter.

Charlie giggles softly and moves to give him another hug. "That's what she said! Leave it all to me, Mr. Samwise! Go and get changed for your not-date." She ushers him out of the kitchen.

Laughing, and a little nervous, Sam charges up the stairs to get changed. He can't help but wonder what Dean will be wearing. Now is not the time to let his mind wander. Undressing in double quick time, he hangs up the rented suit and rummages for his favourite jeans.

His heart is beating rapidly, stomach all fluttery, and he can't seem to get Dean out of his head. Jeans on, he tries to find a tee shirt that doesn't have a hole in. Nope, too geeky for a first not-date. He puts that one back, pulling out his red flannel shirt and a charcoal grey tee that may or may not be related to Starbucks and Star Wars.

He pulls them on and rolls up his flannel sleeves before heading back downstairs. Charlie is now in the lounge, TV on and is dusting.

"Have you picked up all your dirty laundry?" She teases, spraying polish on the coffee table and rubs vigorously. This is mother-hen Charlie mode. Only the best for potential boyfriends, which makes him all the more nervous.

"Yes, mom." Sam mumbles, cheeks heating. "Does that mean I'm allowed boys in my room?" She flings the duster at him.

"No. There will be no copulating while I am present, thank you very much!" 

"Gross!" He pulls a face, chucking the duster back. He goes to open the windows, attempting to air out the smell of polish.

"Has he said what time he's coming?" She wipes the TV screen clean. Sam shakes his head, lifting the spray can. 

"I asked him to text before he sets off." He bites back the feeling growing in his throat. "He's bringing beer too."

Charlie turns to face him, grinning happily. "I think he's wooing you! It'll be flowers and chocolates next!"

"I don't need wooing. He's already seen..." He trails off, blushing with embarrassment. "Well. That's probably why you're here."

Charlie raises her eyebrows. "Already? Tell me you've not fucked yet?" She looks worried.

"No! He came on to me, and he kinda..."

"Spit it out Sam, I'm your best friend!"

"...Sucked my dick..."

Charlie gasps loudly and practically screams in his ear. Sam attempts to hold her at bay, though her tickling proves it futile.

"Charlie! Stop that!" He laughs, trying his best to defend himself, body doubling over in an attempt to protect himself, tears leaking from his eyes.

"I never thought such a big guy like you would be so ticklish! I'm so going to tell Dean!" She crows happily, taking the spray back into the kitchen. Sam sits down on the couch, staring nervously at his phone.

He considers in sending Dean a text, but would that make him sound needy? This was supposed to be a casual hang out, a chance to relax after a long day at work. He find himself already in his messages, the blinking line awaiting his typed reply. He groans quietly and hits the cancel button, dropping his phone into his lap, face buried in his palms.

It's all too much. Having a crush and wanting a relationship are two different things. Sam has expectations, and understandably, if they aren't met he'll feel crushed. It is the fear of not knowing that weighs heavy in his stomach. That small voice in the back of his head whispers that he isn't good enough. And there's the rub. He is afraid of losing everything.

"Sam, honey. I made coffee." Charlie's hand rests gently on his shoulder, warm and steady. "Come on, darling, it'll be okay." She sets the mug down on a novelty coaster. "I'm not going to leave you to struggle through this alone. You can't get rid of me that easily." She laughs fondly, tone soothing Sam.

She sits down beside him, turning his stiff body towards her. "Come on, Moose. Give your little sister a hug."

He flops down against her, face buried against her neck. "You wish." Is his muffled reply, allowing himself to be held.

"Yeah. I do wish. You're like a big brother to me. I think I might have to adopt you." She kisses his hair, stroking gentle circles between his shoulder blades. "Do you need me to ring him?" Sam groans quietly, protesting. "Okay. I'm sure he'll be here soon." 

There's a click to the door as Jess and Castiel let themselves in. Sam can smell pizza, and it makes his mouth water. "Is that pepperoni?" He calls out, comfortable laying on Charlie for the time being.

"Hello to you too, gorgeous!" Castiel greets, feigning offence at being ignored in favour of pizza. "Good tutoring session?" There's a slight hint of something which Sam can't quite fathom out.

"It was okay. Despite Dean wanting to watch Stephen King's It..." He clears his throat and tries not to shudder. Charlie makes a soft soothing sound and continues stroking through his hair, which is probably a bird's nest by now.

"I thought you liked horror movies?" Cas approaches the couch, without the pizza, Sam notes sadly. It's nice to see his face though.

"I do, but not clowns.." He watches Cas kneel on the floor in front of the couch. "Childhood phobia." He explains, worrying his lip, feeling a little ridiculous.

"We all have our fears, honey." Jess soothes, switching on the lamps as it steadily grows darker outside.

"Did you bring enough for another one? We invited Dean to come over." Charlie moves the subject along. If Castiel is annoyed, he certainly doesn't show it.

The somewhat tense silence is disturbed by a purring engine that seems to grow louder as it approaches. Headlights lighting up the lounge as it trundles up the smooth driveway. Charlie lets out a soft noise of appreciation.

She gently rouses him, smoothing down tangled hair with her compact brush.

Sam rubs his eyes and turns on the two lamps either side of the couch, gulping at his coffee before padding to the front door.

"I hope I'm not too late." Dean's gruff voice has Sam looking hurriedly up, and damn, soft brown hair is gelled up into spikes. Sam has never been happier.

"Not at all! Come on in. Shoes off!" Sam pulls back to make room, taking the eight-pack of beer from him. Dean closes the door behind him, toeing off thick, tan coloured boots.

Sam hurries to the kitchen for a bottle opener, leading Dean into the lounge on his way back. "Was the traffic bad?" He asked, gesturing for Dean to sit beside him, Castiel on his other side.

"A little. I had to go to the store for the beer. The queue was hell itself." He passes Sam the DVD and sits down with a quiet thump.

"Sounds about right.. I like to stock up on beer, saves having to do that too often. Thanks." He sets the DVD case on the coffee table and opens a beer for everyone. "Jess and Charlie are arranging tonight's food." 

"Gotcha. Something smells good!" He comments, taking a sip from his chilled bottle, inhaling deeply. Sam chuckles and takes a swig of his own. 

"We brought in two large pepperoni pizzas and plenty of fries." Cas inputs grinning widely at Dean.

"Mmm. Sounds tasty!" Dean makes a soft sound of appreciation. "Does she need any help?"

"I'm sure she'll shout when it's ready. She usually sticks it all on one tray to carry through." He stands to go and close the curtains, turning the TV on in the process.

"It's a nice little dorm you've got here." Dean comments, sipping his beer while he watches Sam.

"Thanks. Couldn't keep it tidy without the help from my girls." Sam smiles warmly, adjusting the volume. He crosses back to pick up the DVD, gently lifting the disk out to pop in the player. "This is my favourite film."

"Yeah? One of mine too. Though its a big list to sort through." Dean chuckles. "The choreography is sweet as fuck. Not to mention bad ass!"

"And here I was, thinking you only watched it for Uma Thurman!" Sam teases, closing the disk tray.

"As cool as she is, she's not my type. At all. Now, if she were a dude, eh, possibly." He waves his bottle dismissively, patting the seat beside him. "You gonna stand there all night?"

"Coming, /Bill!/" Sam snorts, quietly stomping over to flop down on the couch. Dean grunts and shoves him gently.

Charlie returns a few minutes later with some napkins and the huge tray of food. "You've not started without me? Move over Sam, your fat ass is hogging Castiel's seat!" She teases, setting the tray onto the coffee table, before joining Jess in the armchair. 

Sam shuffles over, thigh bumping Dean's. "It's not fat! It's muscled!" He protests, hitting play on the remote and lifts the tray into his lap.

Dean chuckles quietly and reaches for a slice of pizza, content to stuff his face. Sam rolls his eyes, taking a bite of pizza for himself.

Dean chuckles quietly and reaches for a slice of pizza, content to stuff his face. Sam rolls his eyes, taking a bite of pizza for himself.

By the middle of the film, they've practically demolished the whole lot, Dean looking as though he's slipping into a food coma; one hand on his slightly bloated belly, the other lifts his beer to his lips. Sam decides that he likes this look. He quietly sets the tray down on the coffee table, before pulling Cas into a warm cuddle.

Dean spares them a glance, one eyebrow raised in a curious gesture, before promptly flopping down against Sam's side. "Hold me then!" He teases playfully, swigging his beer. Castiel reaches over to lightly bop Dean over the head, which results in the two having a mock fight, hands slapping uselessly at each other.

"Don't fight over me, you two!" Sam laughs, very amused. "Behave and watch the film." He doesn't cuddle either of them until they've calmed down , helping himself to another beer.

The film soon finishes, much to Sam's dismay. Cas is asleep beside him, and Dean is burrowing into Sam's side. Jess and Charlie have already gone to bed.

"You cold?" He whispers, wrapping his arms around the man. It feels tender, natural. Like this was what Sam had needed. Dean shifts in his arms, head tilting back to look up at Sam, resting against his shoulder. Time seems to slow around them, only for them. Dean's lips are pursed, and damn, Sam wants to kiss him something wicked.

"A little." Dean whispers, breath ghosting across Sam's face, green eyes transfixed upon him. One hand tentatively reaches up to stroke Sam's cheek, pulling him down.

"I can't get you like that..." Sam breathes, hands reaching for Dean's hips, attempting to pull the man into his lap. Dean soon gets the idea, one leg lifting over Sam's thighs to straddle him.

The warmth is instant, firm bodyweight pressed against him. Sam wraps one arm around Dean, and pulls him in for a soft kiss. It's gentle, slow and almost loving, completely different to what they shared that morning, but is still feels right. Dean's hands are in his hair, tipping his head back for better access. Sam groans quietly at the tongue wriggling into his mouth: the sound is muffled by Dean's hot mouth, tongue rubbing against his.

He can taste Dean's beer, finally smell that cologne - dark and spicy with hints of cinnamon and musk, skin and faint sweat linger beneath. 

His free hand trails up Dean's back, smoothing over firm muscle, hard shoulders, caresses his neck, strong jaw, high cheekbones, and buries itself into short, soft brown hair.

This is a moment he never wants to end.

"If you could include me in your little tryst, I'd be very happy to share, Dean." Castiel interrupts them. He'd obviously been watching them, the sly devil. "I can't crash on the couch, if you two are groping each other." There's amusement in the tone of his voice, Sam knows he'll have to question all of this later.

He can feel Dean's heart hammer with surprise, cheeks darkening with a dusky pink. Sam just wants to ravish him right there. He bucks his hips in a playful manner, feeling Dean's growing erection. The little shit! He's getting off on being caught!

"Alright. You'd better come along to make sure he doesn't steal me." He teases, watching Dean slide off his lap and stand before him, expression hungry.

"Oh, I'm there. Don't you worry." Cas slowly pushes upright, briefly moving away to turn the electrical items off. 

Sam laughs quietly, heaving himself to his feet. "Come on you," He claps his hand against Dean's ass. "lets get you some pyjamas!" He teases playfully, leading Dean out and up to his bedroom.

He doesn't get much of a chance to get through the doorway, when Dean practically jumps him, forcefully pushing them towards the bed. They land in a heap with a dull thud, Sam face down into the covers, Dean rutting against his ass.

"Your boyfriend is a kinky bitch, you know that?" Dean grunts, giving one ass cheek a firm slap, hips chasing after it.

"Sounds like someone else is too." Sam comments, craning his head to glance over a shoulder. He can feel his dick growing just by the rough handling alone.

"Not gonna lie, I love it." He slaps the other ass cheek and wriggles back. "Can you just have a naked movie night the next time? Clothes are a hindrance."

Sam laughs quietly, rolling onto his back, unfastening his jeans. "That sounds dangerously close to a bad porno... Would shorts and a tee shirt be okay? I'd have to crank the heating up though."

"Anything in which resulted in having you naked in the five minutes or less, would be greatly appreciated." Dean stands to strip out of his clothes, and damn, this is the first time Sam will have seen him naked...

"What about onesies? Are you particularly averse to those?" Sam wants to approach him with the whole dating question, but he doesn't know how.

"Tell me you don't have one..?" Dean lets his tee fall to the floor, and Sam revels in firm muscles and tight belly. He's not as heavily muscled as Sam, but it's a very attractive sight.

"Superman." He replies, kicking out of his jeans. "I modified the pockets so I could pee easier."

Dean smirks at him, eyes darkening. "You dirty dog! I bet that's not all you did it for!" Sam hums softly, fighting a smirk.

"Maybe..." Sam replies nonchalantly, sitting up to pull his flannel and tee shirt off, sat there in socks and boxers. "So you want me naked, huh? Whatever for?"

Dean laughs and pushes his jeans down. "Depends. Want another blow, or perhaps I can try something else?" He steps towards the bed, playing with the waistband of his boxers.

Sam's cheeks are hot, and he has to look away for a moment. "I-I'm not ready for sex yet... It's complicated..." He can feel the pressure in his chest, lump forming in his throat.

"Hey... Sammy, it's okay... I respect your wishes." Dean sits on the edge of the bed, reaching out to tentatively rest a hand on Sam's thigh. "If you don't want to tell me, that's okay. I won't pressure you into anything." Sam has to admit, he's finding this side to Dean far more attractive.

"Perhaps another time...? What are we?" He sits up to look at the shorter brunet, wishing he could just hide.

"What would you like us to be? Friends? Study buddies?" Dean takes Sam's hand in his, thumb rubbing soothingly across his knuckles.

It's at that moment that Castiel joins them in the room. He smiles at them both before beginning to undress. "Sam, we need to talk about all this."

Sam's breath catches in his throat. "Yes. Did you arrange the whole suit thing earlier?" His mouth is dry and palms sweating, but he needs to be brave. Just like ripping off a band aid.

"We did." Cas replies, gesturing between himself and Dean. "Sam, I know this may seem a little confusing, and I don't want to take advantage of your gentle nature. I'm polyamorous, and while Dean is my best friend, I've become attached to the both of you. It doesn't mean that I necessarily want sex with Dean, but I am open to letting him build a relationship with you too."

Sam furrows his brow as he thinks it over. "But what if you get hurt, Cas? What if I get hurt?" He glances nervously between them.

"Sammy. We're all consenting adults here. We can work things out." Dean nods towards Castiel. "There's no rushing this, plenty of time to figure out the details as we go along."

Cas folds his jeans and sets them on the dresser before joining them both on the bed. "If you fall for Dean, then I'll still be happy, knowing I've brought you together." He reaches over to stroke Sam's face. "Trust me on this one."

"I can't be physical in that way... Not until I've sorted myself out." Sam's voice is soft and meek, already afraid that he'll be rebuffed come the the big push.

"Sam, it's okay. Sex isn't everything. I like you, okay? I know a good thing when I see it, and I'm not going to throw this chance away. Besides, you are worth more than that." Dean lifts their hands to kiss them softly. "I-I'm just no good when it comes to public affection." 

Cas shuffles closer to them. "And if you need public affection at any time, then I will be there to help Dean comfort you."

"I don't expect you to bend over backwards for me..." Sam dares to cling to that tiny spark of hope, meeting Castiel's blue gaze. "I'm sorry for blowing hot and cold on you..."

"Don't be. C'mon, I'll give you a cuddle before we sleep. Or we can talk some more? It's up to you." Cas replies as Dean lays down, gently tugging Sam with him, their hands still laced together.

"Thank you, Cas. It means the world to me." He takes a deep breath, staring up at the ceiling.

"Like I said, you are very deserving of affection. Respect too." He lays down on Sam's opposite side, rolled over so he can rest his head on Sam's chest.

Dean stretches out in a similar position. "I had fun today, thanks for inviting me." Sam feels very much comforted by all this affection.

"No problem. I'm glad that you wanted to come. You don't think we're rushing things?" Sam tilts his head to watch him, enjoying the side profile of Dean's face.

"Sam, I remember your first day here. You were possibly more clumsy than you are now. It was endearing, and I wanted to know you. You seemed so shy though, kinda withdrawn, so I waited until I saw that you had grown in confidence, as well as strength.. I'm glad Cas found you at that bar!" He playfully prods Sam's pecs. "Now, anymore mush and I'll have a cavity!"

Sam smiles warmly, pulling them both closer still. "I think I liked you both from day one. Its just I thought you were scary, unapproachable. Hell, I didn't even know you were gay! I didn't want to ruin things, because I wasn't ready. Wasn't even in the right headspace..."

"Don't be upset, but if anyone's ever hurt you, I will drive over to their house, and make them pay." Dean growls, Cas makes a soft agreeing sound.

Sam worries his lip nervously. "Dean... You don't need to do that... It's all in the past."

"It's not though. It's still conflicting with you, and it's not healthy babe. I don't want to see you sad." Dean rolls onto his side, elbow propping his head up. Sam just wants to hide away from everything. He doesn't deserve this kind of happiness.

"We're here for you, okay? You don't have to worry about anything. I got you, Sammy." Castiel strokes over Sam's ribs.

Sam closes his eyes and takes a shaky breath, glancing over to watch him shyly. He blames the beer. He's never been so fragile.. "Thank you."

"Come on now, we should get some sleep. Gonna be a long day tomorrow." Dean pulls the blankets over them all.


	25. Chapter 25

Sam arrives back to their dorm to find Charlie sat on the front steps, eyes twinkling with delight. "You're late. Fancied round two with the cute ass?" She's careful to keep her voice low, so as not to be overheard.

"Hello to you too." Sam greets, locking up Jess' car. "You know, you have the spare key. You didn't need to wait out here for me." He skirts around her obvious question, moving to open the front door. "Oh, and you'd better not hog the couch tonight. 'Cute ass' is coming over."

Charlie squeals with delight. "Finally! You two are /perfect/ for each other! My work here is done!" She skips in behind him, closing the door with a click.

"Charlie, we aren't together. He's just coming to watch a film.." Sam frowns, slipping out of his shoes, Charlie mimics him. He hangs up his satchel and heads through the kitchen to put his flasks in the sink.

"Is he bringing his own film?" She's still there, practically glued to his side, smiling brightly.

"Well yeah, but you do too." Sam points out, arms folding defensively. He didn't see the point in that one. "It's just one film.."

"Yeah. And I bet you asked for your favourite." She replies knowingly, prodding him gently on the arm. "You're in too deep, Sam. He'll break your heart if you're not careful."

Sam frowns, a little hurt at the assumption. He's not weak, working with Dean will be fine. What could possibly go wrong? "Are you saying that I'm not good enough for him?"

Charlie holds her hands up in surrender. "Gosh Sammy, no, I'd never say that! It's him I'm concerned about. You've known him for two months, and he's already pulling tricks. I just want my boy to be happy." She wraps her arms around him in a tight hug. 

Sam automatically returns the gesture, holding her in a bear-hug. "I shan't let him do anything else yet. I promise I'll be careful, okay? You're so good to me, Charlie. I'd be lost without you."

"You're gonna make me cry, Sam Campbell!" Charlie laughs happily, trying her hardest not to cry. "God, I wish we weren't both gay. I'd marry you right this second!"

Sam chuckles and slowly lets go, taking her tiny hand in his large one. "Where's Cas? I need to talk this through with him."

"Out getting snacks and dinner with Jess."

"You can give Fizz her dinner, she'll be happy to see you." He pulls her into the kitchen, making kissy noises to the cat, who's currently winding around their legs.

"You know how much I love her." Charlie bends to pick the fluffy white feline up, pressing a soft kiss to her little pink nose.

"She loves you too." He moves away to run himself a cold glass of water. "You know where her tuna is?"

"Already on it, Mr. Samwise!" She teases playfully, carrying the cat over to the counter. The soft meowing and the cupboard opening confirms his thoughts, and he takes a large gulp of the refreshing liquid.

"You can't call me that tonight!" He grumbles amusedly, glancing over at her. "I might need something else besides pizza.." He sets the glass down on the counter.

Charlie giggles softly and moves to give him another hug. "That's what she said! Leave it all to me, Mr. Samwise! Go and get changed for your not-date." She ushers him out of the kitchen.

Laughing, and a little nervous, Sam charges up the stairs to get changed. He can't help but wonder what Dean will be wearing. Now is not the time to let his mind wander. Undressing in double quick time, he hangs up the rented suit and rummages for his favourite jeans.

His heart is beating rapidly, stomach all fluttery, and he can't seem to get Dean out of his head. Jeans on, he tries to find a tee shirt that doesn't have a hole in. Nope, too geeky for a first not-date. He puts that one back, pulling out his red flannel shirt and a charcoal grey tee that may or may not be related to Starbucks and Star Wars.

He pulls them on and rolls up his flannel sleeves before heading back downstairs. Charlie is now in the lounge, TV on and is dusting.

"Have you picked up all your dirty laundry?" She teases, spraying polish on the coffee table and rubs vigorously. This is mother-hen Charlie mode. Only the best for potential boyfriends, which makes him all the more nervous.

"Yes, mom." Sam mumbles, cheeks heating. "Does that mean I'm allowed boys in my room?" She flings the duster at him.

"No. There will be no copulating while I am present, thank you very much!" 

"Gross!" He pulls a face, chucking the duster back. He goes to open the windows, attempting to air out the smell of polish.

"Has he said what time he's coming?" She wipes the TV screen clean. Sam shakes his head, lifting the spray can. 

"I asked him to text before he sets off." He bites back the feeling growing in his throat. "He's bringing beer too."

Charlie turns to face him, grinning happily. "I think he's wooing you! It'll be flowers and chocolates next!"

"I don't need wooing. He's already seen..." He trails off, blushing with embarrassment. "Well. That's probably why you're here."

Charlie raises her eyebrows. "Already? Tell me you've not fucked yet?" She looks worried.

"No! He came on to me, and he kinda..."

"Spit it out Sam, I'm your best friend!"

"...Sucked my dick..."

Charlie gasps loudly and practically screams in his ear. Sam attempts to hold her at bay, though her tickling proves it futile.

"Charlie! Stop that!" He laughs, trying his best to defend himself, body doubling over in an attempt to protect himself, tears leaking from his eyes.

"I never thought such a big guy like you would be so ticklish! I'm so going to tell Dean!" She crows happily, taking the spray back into the kitchen. Sam sits down on the couch, staring nervously at his phone.

He considers in sending Dean a text, but would that make him sound needy? This was supposed to be a casual hang out, a chance to relax after a long day at work. He find himself already in his messages, the blinking line awaiting his typed reply. He groans quietly and hits the cancel button, dropping his phone into his lap, face buried in his palms.

It's all too much. Having a crush and wanting a relationship are two different things. Sam has expectations, and understandably, if they aren't met he'll feel crushed. It is the fear of not knowing that weighs heavy in his stomach. That small voice in the back of his head whispers that he isn't good enough. And there's the rub. He is afraid of losing everything.

"Sam, honey. I made coffee." Charlie's hand rests gently on his shoulder, warm and steady. "Come on, darling, it'll be okay." She sets the mug down on a novelty coaster. "I'm not going to leave you to struggle through this alone. You can't get rid of me that easily." She laughs fondly, tone soothing Sam.

She sits down beside him, turning his stiff body towards her. "Come on, Moose. Give your little sister a hug."

He flops down against her, face buried against her neck. "You wish." Is his muffled reply, allowing himself to be held.

"Yeah. I do wish. You're like a big brother to me. I think I might have to adopt you." She kisses his hair, stroking gentle circles between his shoulder blades. "Do you need me to ring him?" Sam groans quietly, protesting. "Okay. I'm sure he'll be here soon." 

There's a click to the door as Jess and Castiel let themselves in. Sam can smell pizza, and it makes his mouth water. "Is that pepperoni?" He calls out, comfortable laying on Charlie for the time being.

"Hello to you too, gorgeous!" Castiel greets, feigning offence at being ignored in favour of pizza. "Good tutoring session?" There's a slight hint of something which Sam can't quite fathom out.

"It was okay. Despite Dean wanting to watch Stephen King's It..." He clears his throat and tries not to shudder. Charlie makes a soft soothing sound and continues stroking through his hair, which is probably a bird's nest by now.

"I thought you liked horror movies?" Cas approaches the couch, without the pizza, Sam notes sadly. It's nice to see his face though.

"I do, but not clowns.." He watches Cas kneel on the floor in front of the couch. "Childhood phobia." He explains, worrying his lip, feeling a little ridiculous.

"We all have our fears, honey." Jess soothes, switching on the lamps as it steadily grows darker outside.

"Did you bring enough for another one? We invited Dean to come over." Charlie moves the subject along. If Castiel is annoyed, he certainly doesn't show it.

The somewhat tense silence is disturbed by a purring engine that seems to grow louder as it approaches. Headlights lighting up the lounge as it trundles up the smooth driveway. Charlie lets out a soft noise of appreciation.

She gently rouses him, smoothing down tangled hair with her compact brush.

Sam rubs his eyes and turns on the two lamps either side of the couch, gulping at his coffee before padding to the front door.

"I hope I'm not too late." Dean's gruff voice has Sam looking hurriedly up, and damn, soft brown hair is gelled up into spikes. Sam has never been happier.

"Not at all! Come on in. Shoes off!" Sam pulls back to make room, taking the eight-pack of beer from him. Dean closes the door behind him, toeing off thick, tan coloured boots.

Sam hurries to the kitchen for a bottle opener, leading Dean into the lounge on his way back. "Was the traffic bad?" He asked, gesturing for Dean to sit beside him, Castiel on his other side.

"A little. I had to go to the store for the beer. The queue was hell itself." He passes Sam the DVD and sits down with a quiet thump.

"Sounds about right.. I like to stock up on beer, saves having to do that too often. Thanks." He sets the DVD case on the coffee table and opens a beer for everyone. "Jess and Charlie are arranging tonight's food." 

"Gotcha. Something smells good!" He comments, taking a sip from his chilled bottle, inhaling deeply. Sam chuckles and takes a swig of his own. 

"We brought in two large pepperoni pizzas and plenty of fries." Cas inputs grinning widely at Dean.

"Mmm. Sounds tasty!" Dean makes a soft sound of appreciation. "Does she need any help?"

"I'm sure she'll shout when it's ready. She usually sticks it all on one tray to carry through." He stands to go and close the curtains, turning the TV on in the process.

"It's a nice little dorm you've got here." Dean comments, sipping his beer while he watches Sam.

"Thanks. Couldn't keep it tidy without the help from my girls." Sam smiles warmly, adjusting the volume. He crosses back to pick up the DVD, gently lifting the disk out to pop in the player. "This is my favourite film."

"Yeah? One of mine too. Though its a big list to sort through." Dean chuckles. "The choreography is sweet as fuck. Not to mention bad ass!"

"And here I was, thinking you only watched it for Uma Thurman!" Sam teases, closing the disk tray.

"As cool as she is, she's not my type. At all. Now, if she were a dude, eh, possibly." He waves his bottle dismissively, patting the seat beside him. "You gonna stand there all night?"

"Coming, /Bill!/" Sam snorts, quietly stomping over to flop down on the couch. Dean grunts and shoves him gently.

Charlie returns a few minutes later with some napkins and the huge tray of food. "You've not started without me? Move over Sam, your fat ass is hogging Castiel's seat!" She teases, setting the tray onto the coffee table, before joining Jess in the armchair. 

Sam shuffles over, thigh bumping Dean's. "It's not fat! It's muscled!" He protests, hitting play on the remote and lifts the tray into his lap.

Dean chuckles quietly and reaches for a slice of pizza, content to stuff his face. Sam rolls his eyes, taking a bite of pizza for himself.

Dean chuckles quietly and reaches for a slice of pizza, content to stuff his face. Sam rolls his eyes, taking a bite of pizza for himself.

By the middle of the film, they've practically demolished the whole lot, Dean looking as though he's slipping into a food coma; one hand on his slightly bloated belly, the other lifts his beer to his lips. Sam decides that he likes this look. He quietly sets the tray down on the coffee table, before pulling Cas into a warm cuddle.

Dean spares them a glance, one eyebrow raised in a curious gesture, before promptly flopping down against Sam's side. "Hold me then!" He teases playfully, swigging his beer. Castiel reaches over to lightly bop Dean over the head, which results in the two having a mock fight, hands slapping uselessly at each other.

"Don't fight over me, you two!" Sam laughs, very amused. "Behave and watch the film." He doesn't cuddle either of them until they've calmed down , helping himself to another beer.

The film soon finishes, much to Sam's dismay. Cas is asleep beside him, and Dean is burrowing into Sam's side. Jess and Charlie have already gone to bed.

"You cold?" He whispers, wrapping his arms around the man. It feels tender, natural. Like this was what Sam had needed. Dean shifts in his arms, head tilting back to look up at Sam, resting against his shoulder. Time seems to slow around them, only for them. Dean's lips are pursed, and damn, Sam wants to kiss him something wicked.

"A little." Dean whispers, breath ghosting across Sam's face, green eyes transfixed upon him. One hand tentatively reaches up to stroke Sam's cheek, pulling him down.

"I can't get you like that..." Sam breathes, hands reaching for Dean's hips, attempting to pull the man into his lap. Dean soon gets the idea, one leg lifting over Sam's thighs to straddle him.

The warmth is instant, firm bodyweight pressed against him. Sam wraps one arm around Dean, and pulls him in for a soft kiss. It's gentle, slow and almost loving, completely different to what they shared that morning, but is still feels right. Dean's hands are in his hair, tipping his head back for better access. Sam groans quietly at the tongue wriggling into his mouth: the sound is muffled by Dean's hot mouth, tongue rubbing against his.

He can taste Dean's beer, finally smell that cologne - dark and spicy with hints of cinnamon and musk, skin and faint sweat linger beneath. 

His free hand trails up Dean's back, smoothing over firm muscle, hard shoulders, caresses his neck, strong jaw, high cheekbones, and buries itself into short, soft brown hair.

This is a moment he never wants to end.

"If you could include me in your little tryst, I'd be very happy to share, Dean." Castiel interrupts them. He'd obviously been watching them, the sly devil. "I can't crash on the couch, if you two are groping each other." There's amusement in the tone of his voice, Sam knows he'll have to question all of this later.

He can feel Dean's heart hammer with surprise, cheeks darkening with a dusky pink. Sam just wants to ravish him right there. He bucks his hips in a playful manner, feeling Dean's growing erection. The little shit! He's getting off on being caught!

"Alright. You'd better come along to make sure he doesn't steal me." He teases, watching Dean slide off his lap and stand before him, expression hungry.

"Oh, I'm there. Don't you worry." Cas slowly pushes upright, briefly moving away to turn the electrical items off. 

Sam laughs quietly, heaving himself to his feet. "Come on you," He claps his hand against Dean's ass. "lets get you some pyjamas!" He teases playfully, leading Dean out and up to his bedroom.

He doesn't get much of a chance to get through the doorway, when Dean practically jumps him, forcefully pushing them towards the bed. They land in a heap with a dull thud, Sam face down into the covers, Dean rutting against his ass.

"Your boyfriend is a kinky bitch, you know that?" Dean grunts, giving one ass cheek a firm slap, hips chasing after it.

"Sounds like someone else is too." Sam comments, craning his head to glance over a shoulder. He can feel his dick growing just by the rough handling alone.

"Not gonna lie, I love it." He slaps the other ass cheek and wriggles back. "Can you just have a naked movie night the next time? Clothes are a hindrance."

Sam laughs quietly, rolling onto his back, unfastening his jeans. "That sounds dangerously close to a bad porno... Would shorts and a tee shirt be okay? I'd have to crank the heating up though."

"Anything in which resulted in having you naked in the five minutes or less, would be greatly appreciated." Dean stands to strip out of his clothes, and damn, this is the first time Sam will have seen him naked...

"What about onesies? Are you particularly averse to those?" Sam wants to approach him with the whole dating question, but he doesn't know how.

"Tell me you don't have one..?" Dean lets his tee fall to the floor, and Sam revels in firm muscles and tight belly. He's not as heavily muscled as Sam, but it's a very attractive sight.

"Superman." He replies, kicking out of his jeans. "I modified the pockets so I could pee easier."

Dean smirks at him, eyes darkening. "You dirty dog! I bet that's not all you did it for!" Sam hums softly, fighting a smirk.

"Maybe..." Sam replies nonchalantly, sitting up to pull his flannel and tee shirt off, sat there in socks and boxers. "So you want me naked, huh? Whatever for?"

Dean laughs and pushes his jeans down. "Depends. Want another blow, or perhaps I can try something else?" He steps towards the bed, playing with the waistband of his boxers.

Sam's cheeks are hot, and he has to look away for a moment. "I-I'm not ready for sex yet... It's complicated..." He can feel the pressure in his chest, lump forming in his throat.

"Hey... Sammy, it's okay... I respect your wishes." Dean sits on the edge of the bed, reaching out to tentatively rest a hand on Sam's thigh. "If you don't want to tell me, that's okay. I won't pressure you into anything." Sam has to admit, he's finding this side to Dean far more attractive.

"Perhaps another time...? What are we?" He sits up to look at the shorter brunet, wishing he could just hide.

"What would you like us to be? Friends? Study buddies?" Dean takes Sam's hand in his, thumb rubbing soothingly across his knuckles.

It's at that moment that Castiel joins them in the room. He smiles at them both before beginning to undress. "Sam, we need to talk about all this."

Sam's breath catches in his throat. "Yes. Did you arrange the whole suit thing earlier?" His mouth is dry and palms sweating, but he needs to be brave. Just like ripping off a band aid.

"We did." Cas replies, gesturing between himself and Dean. "Sam, I know this may seem a little confusing, and I don't want to take advantage of your gentle nature. I'm polyamorous, and while Dean is my best friend, I've become attached to the both of you. It doesn't mean that I necessarily want sex with Dean, but I am open to letting him build a relationship with you too."

Sam furrows his brow as he thinks it over. "But what if you get hurt, Cas? What if I get hurt?" He glances nervously between them.

"Sammy. We're all consenting adults here. We can work things out." Dean nods towards Castiel. "There's no rushing this, plenty of time to figure out the details as we go along."

Cas folds his jeans and sets them on the dresser before joining them both on the bed. "If you fall for Dean, then I'll still be happy, knowing I've brought you together." He reaches over to stroke Sam's face. "Trust me on this one."

"I can't be physical in that way... Not until I've sorted myself out." Sam's voice is soft and meek, already afraid that he'll be rebuffed come the the big push.

"Sam, it's okay. Sex isn't everything. I like you, okay? I know a good thing when I see it, and I'm not going to throw this chance away. Besides, you are worth more than that." Dean lifts their hands to kiss them softly. "I-I'm just no good when it comes to public affection." 

Cas shuffles closer to them. "And if you need public affection at any time, then I will be there to help Dean comfort you."

"I don't expect you to bend over backwards for me..." Sam dares to cling to that tiny spark of hope, meeting Castiel's blue gaze. "I'm sorry for blowing hot and cold on you..."

"Don't be. C'mon, I'll give you a cuddle before we sleep. Or we can talk some more? It's up to you." Cas replies as Dean lays down, gently tugging Sam with him, their hands still laced together.

"Thank you, Cas. It means the world to me." He takes a deep breath, staring up at the ceiling.

"Like I said, you are very deserving of affection. Respect too." He lays down on Sam's opposite side, rolled over so he can rest his head on Sam's chest.

Dean stretches out in a similar position. "I had fun today, thanks for inviting me." Sam feels very much comforted by all this affection.

"No problem. I'm glad that you wanted to come. You don't think we're rushing things?" Sam tilts his head to watch him, enjoying the side profile of Dean's face.

"Sam, I remember your first day here. You were possibly more clumsy than you are now. It was endearing, and I wanted to know you. You seemed so shy though, kinda withdrawn, so I waited until I saw that you had grown in confidence, as well as strength.. I'm glad Cas found you at that bar!" He playfully prods Sam's pecs. "Now, anymore mush and I'll have a cavity!"

Sam smiles warmly, pulling them both closer still. "I think I liked you both from day one. Its just I thought you were scary, unapproachable. Hell, I didn't even know you were gay! I didn't want to ruin things, because I wasn't ready. Wasn't even in the right headspace..."

"Don't be upset, but if anyone's ever hurt you, I will drive over to their house, and make them pay." Dean growls, Cas makes a soft agreeing sound.

Sam worries his lip nervously. "Dean... You don't need to do that... It's all in the past."

"It's not though. It's still conflicting with you, and it's not healthy babe. I don't want to see you sad." Dean rolls onto his side, elbow propping his head up. Sam just wants to hide away from everything. He doesn't deserve this kind of happiness.

"We're here for you, okay? You don't have to worry about anything. I got you, Sammy." Castiel strokes over Sam's ribs.

Sam closes his eyes and takes a shaky breath, glancing over to watch him shyly. He blames the beer. He's never been so fragile.. "Thank you."

"Come on now, we should get some sleep. Gonna be a long day tomorrow." Dean pulls the blankets over them all.


	26. Chapter 26

Sam arrives back to their dorm to find Charlie sat on the front steps, eyes twinkling with delight. "You're late. Fancied round two with the cute ass?" She's careful to keep her voice low, so as not to be overheard.

"Hello to you too." Sam greets, locking up Jess' car. "You know, you have the spare key. You didn't need to wait out here for me." He skirts around her obvious question, moving to open the front door. "Oh, and you'd better not hog the couch tonight. 'Cute ass' is coming over."

Charlie squeals with delight. "Finally! You two are /perfect/ for each other! My work here is done!" She skips in behind him, closing the door with a click.

"Charlie, we aren't together. He's just coming to watch a film.." Sam frowns, slipping out of his shoes, Charlie mimics him. He hangs up his satchel and heads through the kitchen to put his flasks in the sink.

"Is he bringing his own film?" She's still there, practically glued to his side, smiling brightly.

"Well yeah, but you do too." Sam points out, arms folding defensively. He didn't see the point in that one. "It's just one film.."

"Yeah. And I bet you asked for your favourite." She replies knowingly, prodding him gently on the arm. "You're in too deep, Sam. He'll break your heart if you're not careful."

Sam frowns, a little hurt at the assumption. He's not weak, working with Dean will be fine. What could possibly go wrong? "Are you saying that I'm not good enough for him?"

Charlie holds her hands up in surrender. "Gosh Sammy, no, I'd never say that! It's him I'm concerned about. You've known him for two months, and he's already pulling tricks. I just want my boy to be happy." She wraps her arms around him in a tight hug. 

Sam automatically returns the gesture, holding her in a bear-hug. "I shan't let him do anything else yet. I promise I'll be careful, okay? You're so good to me, Charlie. I'd be lost without you."

"You're gonna make me cry, Sam Campbell!" Charlie laughs happily, trying her hardest not to cry. "God, I wish we weren't both gay. I'd marry you right this second!"

Sam chuckles and slowly lets go, taking her tiny hand in his large one. "Where's Cas? I need to talk this through with him."

"Out getting snacks and dinner with Jess."

"You can give Fizz her dinner, she'll be happy to see you." He pulls her into the kitchen, making kissy noises to the cat, who's currently winding around their legs.

"You know how much I love her." Charlie bends to pick the fluffy white feline up, pressing a soft kiss to her little pink nose.

"She loves you too." He moves away to run himself a cold glass of water. "You know where her tuna is?"

"Already on it, Mr. Samwise!" She teases playfully, carrying the cat over to the counter. The soft meowing and the cupboard opening confirms his thoughts, and he takes a large gulp of the refreshing liquid.

"You can't call me that tonight!" He grumbles amusedly, glancing over at her. "I might need something else besides pizza.." He sets the glass down on the counter.

Charlie giggles softly and moves to give him another hug. "That's what she said! Leave it all to me, Mr. Samwise! Go and get changed for your not-date." She ushers him out of the kitchen.

Laughing, and a little nervous, Sam charges up the stairs to get changed. He can't help but wonder what Dean will be wearing. Now is not the time to let his mind wander. Undressing in double quick time, he hangs up the rented suit and rummages for his favourite jeans.

His heart is beating rapidly, stomach all fluttery, and he can't seem to get Dean out of his head. Jeans on, he tries to find a tee shirt that doesn't have a hole in. Nope, too geeky for a first not-date. He puts that one back, pulling out his red flannel shirt and a charcoal grey tee that may or may not be related to Starbucks and Star Wars.

He pulls them on and rolls up his flannel sleeves before heading back downstairs. Charlie is now in the lounge, TV on and is dusting.

"Have you picked up all your dirty laundry?" She teases, spraying polish on the coffee table and rubs vigorously. This is mother-hen Charlie mode. Only the best for potential boyfriends, which makes him all the more nervous.

"Yes, mom." Sam mumbles, cheeks heating. "Does that mean I'm allowed boys in my room?" She flings the duster at him.

"No. There will be no copulating while I am present, thank you very much!" 

"Gross!" He pulls a face, chucking the duster back. He goes to open the windows, attempting to air out the smell of polish.

"Has he said what time he's coming?" She wipes the TV screen clean. Sam shakes his head, lifting the spray can. 

"I asked him to text before he sets off." He bites back the feeling growing in his throat. "He's bringing beer too."

Charlie turns to face him, grinning happily. "I think he's wooing you! It'll be flowers and chocolates next!"

"I don't need wooing. He's already seen..." He trails off, blushing with embarrassment. "Well. That's probably why you're here."

Charlie raises her eyebrows. "Already? Tell me you've not fucked yet?" She looks worried.

"No! He came on to me, and he kinda..."

"Spit it out Sam, I'm your best friend!"

"...Sucked my dick..."

Charlie gasps loudly and practically screams in his ear. Sam attempts to hold her at bay, though her tickling proves it futile.

"Charlie! Stop that!" He laughs, trying his best to defend himself, body doubling over in an attempt to protect himself, tears leaking from his eyes.

"I never thought such a big guy like you would be so ticklish! I'm so going to tell Dean!" She crows happily, taking the spray back into the kitchen. Sam sits down on the couch, staring nervously at his phone.

He considers in sending Dean a text, but would that make him sound needy? This was supposed to be a casual hang out, a chance to relax after a long day at work. He find himself already in his messages, the blinking line awaiting his typed reply. He groans quietly and hits the cancel button, dropping his phone into his lap, face buried in his palms.

It's all too much. Having a crush and wanting a relationship are two different things. Sam has expectations, and understandably, if they aren't met he'll feel crushed. It is the fear of not knowing that weighs heavy in his stomach. That small voice in the back of his head whispers that he isn't good enough. And there's the rub. He is afraid of losing everything.

"Sam, honey. I made coffee." Charlie's hand rests gently on his shoulder, warm and steady. "Come on, darling, it'll be okay." She sets the mug down on a novelty coaster. "I'm not going to leave you to struggle through this alone. You can't get rid of me that easily." She laughs fondly, tone soothing Sam.

She sits down beside him, turning his stiff body towards her. "Come on, Moose. Give your little sister a hug."

He flops down against her, face buried against her neck. "You wish." Is his muffled reply, allowing himself to be held.

"Yeah. I do wish. You're like a big brother to me. I think I might have to adopt you." She kisses his hair, stroking gentle circles between his shoulder blades. "Do you need me to ring him?" Sam groans quietly, protesting. "Okay. I'm sure he'll be here soon." 

There's a click to the door as Jess and Castiel let themselves in. Sam can smell pizza, and it makes his mouth water. "Is that pepperoni?" He calls out, comfortable laying on Charlie for the time being.

"Hello to you too, gorgeous!" Castiel greets, feigning offence at being ignored in favour of pizza. "Good tutoring session?" There's a slight hint of something which Sam can't quite fathom out.

"It was okay. Despite Dean wanting to watch Stephen King's It..." He clears his throat and tries not to shudder. Charlie makes a soft soothing sound and continues stroking through his hair, which is probably a bird's nest by now.

"I thought you liked horror movies?" Cas approaches the couch, without the pizza, Sam notes sadly. It's nice to see his face though.

"I do, but not clowns.." He watches Cas kneel on the floor in front of the couch. "Childhood phobia." He explains, worrying his lip, feeling a little ridiculous.

"We all have our fears, honey." Jess soothes, switching on the lamps as it steadily grows darker outside.

"Did you bring enough for another one? We invited Dean to come over." Charlie moves the subject along. If Castiel is annoyed, he certainly doesn't show it.

The somewhat tense silence is disturbed by a purring engine that seems to grow louder as it approaches. Headlights lighting up the lounge as it trundles up the smooth driveway. Charlie lets out a soft noise of appreciation.

She gently rouses him, smoothing down tangled hair with her compact brush.

Sam rubs his eyes and turns on the two lamps either side of the couch, gulping at his coffee before padding to the front door.

"I hope I'm not too late." Dean's gruff voice has Sam looking hurriedly up, and damn, soft brown hair is gelled up into spikes. Sam has never been happier.

"Not at all! Come on in. Shoes off!" Sam pulls back to make room, taking the eight-pack of beer from him. Dean closes the door behind him, toeing off thick, tan coloured boots.

Sam hurries to the kitchen for a bottle opener, leading Dean into the lounge on his way back. "Was the traffic bad?" He asked, gesturing for Dean to sit beside him, Castiel on his other side.

"A little. I had to go to the store for the beer. The queue was hell itself." He passes Sam the DVD and sits down with a quiet thump.

"Sounds about right.. I like to stock up on beer, saves having to do that too often. Thanks." He sets the DVD case on the coffee table and opens a beer for everyone. "Jess and Charlie are arranging tonight's food." 

"Gotcha. Something smells good!" He comments, taking a sip from his chilled bottle, inhaling deeply. Sam chuckles and takes a swig of his own. 

"We brought in two large pepperoni pizzas and plenty of fries." Cas inputs grinning widely at Dean.

"Mmm. Sounds tasty!" Dean makes a soft sound of appreciation. "Does she need any help?"

"I'm sure she'll shout when it's ready. She usually sticks it all on one tray to carry through." He stands to go and close the curtains, turning the TV on in the process.

"It's a nice little dorm you've got here." Dean comments, sipping his beer while he watches Sam.

"Thanks. Couldn't keep it tidy without the help from my girls." Sam smiles warmly, adjusting the volume. He crosses back to pick up the DVD, gently lifting the disk out to pop in the player. "This is my favourite film."

"Yeah? One of mine too. Though its a big list to sort through." Dean chuckles. "The choreography is sweet as fuck. Not to mention bad ass!"

"And here I was, thinking you only watched it for Uma Thurman!" Sam teases, closing the disk tray.

"As cool as she is, she's not my type. At all. Now, if she were a dude, eh, possibly." He waves his bottle dismissively, patting the seat beside him. "You gonna stand there all night?"

"Coming, /Bill!/" Sam snorts, quietly stomping over to flop down on the couch. Dean grunts and shoves him gently.

Charlie returns a few minutes later with some napkins and the huge tray of food. "You've not started without me? Move over Sam, your fat ass is hogging Castiel's seat!" She teases, setting the tray onto the coffee table, before joining Jess in the armchair. 

Sam shuffles over, thigh bumping Dean's. "It's not fat! It's muscled!" He protests, hitting play on the remote and lifts the tray into his lap.

Dean chuckles quietly and reaches for a slice of pizza, content to stuff his face. Sam rolls his eyes, taking a bite of pizza for himself.

Dean chuckles quietly and reaches for a slice of pizza, content to stuff his face. Sam rolls his eyes, taking a bite of pizza for himself.

By the middle of the film, they've practically demolished the whole lot, Dean looking as though he's slipping into a food coma; one hand on his slightly bloated belly, the other lifts his beer to his lips. Sam decides that he likes this look. He quietly sets the tray down on the coffee table, before pulling Cas into a warm cuddle.

Dean spares them a glance, one eyebrow raised in a curious gesture, before promptly flopping down against Sam's side. "Hold me then!" He teases playfully, swigging his beer. Castiel reaches over to lightly bop Dean over the head, which results in the two having a mock fight, hands slapping uselessly at each other.

"Don't fight over me, you two!" Sam laughs, very amused. "Behave and watch the film." He doesn't cuddle either of them until they've calmed down , helping himself to another beer.

The film soon finishes, much to Sam's dismay. Cas is asleep beside him, and Dean is burrowing into Sam's side. Jess and Charlie have already gone to bed.

"You cold?" He whispers, wrapping his arms around the man. It feels tender, natural. Like this was what Sam had needed. Dean shifts in his arms, head tilting back to look up at Sam, resting against his shoulder. Time seems to slow around them, only for them. Dean's lips are pursed, and damn, Sam wants to kiss him something wicked.

"A little." Dean whispers, breath ghosting across Sam's face, green eyes transfixed upon him. One hand tentatively reaches up to stroke Sam's cheek, pulling him down.

"I can't get you like that..." Sam breathes, hands reaching for Dean's hips, attempting to pull the man into his lap. Dean soon gets the idea, one leg lifting over Sam's thighs to straddle him.

The warmth is instant, firm bodyweight pressed against him. Sam wraps one arm around Dean, and pulls him in for a soft kiss. It's gentle, slow and almost loving, completely different to what they shared that morning, but is still feels right. Dean's hands are in his hair, tipping his head back for better access. Sam groans quietly at the tongue wriggling into his mouth: the sound is muffled by Dean's hot mouth, tongue rubbing against his.

He can taste Dean's beer, finally smell that cologne - dark and spicy with hints of cinnamon and musk, skin and faint sweat linger beneath. 

His free hand trails up Dean's back, smoothing over firm muscle, hard shoulders, caresses his neck, strong jaw, high cheekbones, and buries itself into short, soft brown hair.

This is a moment he never wants to end.

"If you could include me in your little tryst, I'd be very happy to share, Dean." Castiel interrupts them. He'd obviously been watching them, the sly devil. "I can't crash on the couch, if you two are groping each other." There's amusement in the tone of his voice, Sam knows he'll have to question all of this later.

He can feel Dean's heart hammer with surprise, cheeks darkening with a dusky pink. Sam just wants to ravish him right there. He bucks his hips in a playful manner, feeling Dean's growing erection. The little shit! He's getting off on being caught!

"Alright. You'd better come along to make sure he doesn't steal me." He teases, watching Dean slide off his lap and stand before him, expression hungry.

"Oh, I'm there. Don't you worry." Cas slowly pushes upright, briefly moving away to turn the electrical items off. 

Sam laughs quietly, heaving himself to his feet. "Come on you," He claps his hand against Dean's ass. "lets get you some pyjamas!" He teases playfully, leading Dean out and up to his bedroom.

He doesn't get much of a chance to get through the doorway, when Dean practically jumps him, forcefully pushing them towards the bed. They land in a heap with a dull thud, Sam face down into the covers, Dean rutting against his ass.

"Your boyfriend is a kinky bitch, you know that?" Dean grunts, giving one ass cheek a firm slap, hips chasing after it.

"Sounds like someone else is too." Sam comments, craning his head to glance over a shoulder. He can feel his dick growing just by the rough handling alone.

"Not gonna lie, I love it." He slaps the other ass cheek and wriggles back. "Can you just have a naked movie night the next time? Clothes are a hindrance."

Sam laughs quietly, rolling onto his back, unfastening his jeans. "That sounds dangerously close to a bad porno... Would shorts and a tee shirt be okay? I'd have to crank the heating up though."

"Anything in which resulted in having you naked in the five minutes or less, would be greatly appreciated." Dean stands to strip out of his clothes, and damn, this is the first time Sam will have seen him naked...

"What about onesies? Are you particularly averse to those?" Sam wants to approach him with the whole dating question, but he doesn't know how.

"Tell me you don't have one..?" Dean lets his tee fall to the floor, and Sam revels in firm muscles and tight belly. He's not as heavily muscled as Sam, but it's a very attractive sight.

"Superman." He replies, kicking out of his jeans. "I modified the pockets so I could pee easier."

Dean smirks at him, eyes darkening. "You dirty dog! I bet that's not all you did it for!" Sam hums softly, fighting a smirk.

"Maybe..." Sam replies nonchalantly, sitting up to pull his flannel and tee shirt off, sat there in socks and boxers. "So you want me naked, huh? Whatever for?"

Dean laughs and pushes his jeans down. "Depends. Want another blow, or perhaps I can try something else?" He steps towards the bed, playing with the waistband of his boxers.

Sam's cheeks are hot, and he has to look away for a moment. "I-I'm not ready for sex yet... It's complicated..." He can feel the pressure in his chest, lump forming in his throat.

"Hey... Sammy, it's okay... I respect your wishes." Dean sits on the edge of the bed, reaching out to tentatively rest a hand on Sam's thigh. "If you don't want to tell me, that's okay. I won't pressure you into anything." Sam has to admit, he's finding this side to Dean far more attractive.

"Perhaps another time...? What are we?" He sits up to look at the shorter brunet, wishing he could just hide.

"What would you like us to be? Friends? Study buddies?" Dean takes Sam's hand in his, thumb rubbing soothingly across his knuckles.

It's at that moment that Castiel joins them in the room. He smiles at them both before beginning to undress. "Sam, we need to talk about all this."

Sam's breath catches in his throat. "Yes. Did you arrange the whole suit thing earlier?" His mouth is dry and palms sweating, but he needs to be brave. Just like ripping off a band aid.

"We did." Cas replies, gesturing between himself and Dean. "Sam, I know this may seem a little confusing, and I don't want to take advantage of your gentle nature. I'm polyamorous, and while Dean is my best friend, I've become attached to the both of you. It doesn't mean that I necessarily want sex with Dean, but I am open to letting him build a relationship with you too."

Sam furrows his brow as he thinks it over. "But what if you get hurt, Cas? What if I get hurt?" He glances nervously between them.

"Sammy. We're all consenting adults here. We can work things out." Dean nods towards Castiel. "There's no rushing this, plenty of time to figure out the details as we go along."

Cas folds his jeans and sets them on the dresser before joining them both on the bed. "If you fall for Dean, then I'll still be happy, knowing I've brought you together." He reaches over to stroke Sam's face. "Trust me on this one."

"I can't be physical in that way... Not until I've sorted myself out." Sam's voice is soft and meek, already afraid that he'll be rebuffed come the the big push.

"Sam, it's okay. Sex isn't everything. I like you, okay? I know a good thing when I see it, and I'm not going to throw this chance away. Besides, you are worth more than that." Dean lifts their hands to kiss them softly. "I-I'm just no good when it comes to public affection." 

Cas shuffles closer to them. "And if you need public affection at any time, then I will be there to help Dean comfort you."

"I don't expect you to bend over backwards for me..." Sam dares to cling to that tiny spark of hope, meeting Castiel's blue gaze. "I'm sorry for blowing hot and cold on you..."

"Don't be. C'mon, I'll give you a cuddle before we sleep. Or we can talk some more? It's up to you." Cas replies as Dean lays down, gently tugging Sam with him, their hands still laced together.

"Thank you, Cas. It means the world to me." He takes a deep breath, staring up at the ceiling.

"Like I said, you are very deserving of affection. Respect too." He lays down on Sam's opposite side, rolled over so he can rest his head on Sam's chest.

Dean stretches out in a similar position. "I had fun today, thanks for inviting me." Sam feels very much comforted by all this affection.

"No problem. I'm glad that you wanted to come. You don't think we're rushing things?" Sam tilts his head to watch him, enjoying the side profile of Dean's face.

"Sam, I remember your first day here. You were possibly more clumsy than you are now. It was endearing, and I wanted to know you. You seemed so shy though, kinda withdrawn, so I waited until I saw that you had grown in confidence, as well as strength.. I'm glad Cas found you at that bar!" He playfully prods Sam's pecs. "Now, anymore mush and I'll have a cavity!"

Sam smiles warmly, pulling them both closer still. "I think I liked you both from day one. Its just I thought you were scary, unapproachable. Hell, I didn't even know you were gay! I didn't want to ruin things, because I wasn't ready. Wasn't even in the right headspace..."

"Don't be upset, but if anyone's ever hurt you, I will drive over to their house, and make them pay." Dean growls, Cas makes a soft agreeing sound.

Sam worries his lip nervously. "Dean... You don't need to do that... It's all in the past."

"It's not though. It's still conflicting with you, and it's not healthy babe. I don't want to see you sad." Dean rolls onto his side, elbow propping his head up. Sam just wants to hide away from everything. He doesn't deserve this kind of happiness.

"We're here for you, okay? You don't have to worry about anything. I got you, Sammy." Castiel strokes over Sam's ribs.

Sam closes his eyes and takes a shaky breath, glancing over to watch him shyly. He blames the beer. He's never been so fragile.. "Thank you."

"Come on now, we should get some sleep. Gonna be a long day tomorrow." Dean pulls the blankets over them all.


	27. Chapter 27

Sam wakes up to the smell of cooking bacon and pancakes, and a tightly clinging Dean. There's a gentle puff of breath against his neck, and a light scrape of fingers against his torso as Dean slowly comes to.

"G'mornin' beautiful." Dean drawls, voice rough from sleep, Texan accent deep and twanging that sends butterflies flapping in Sam's belly. "D'you have bacon in this bed, or am I goin' crazy?"

Sam laughs softly, rolling back to gaze fondly at the endearing man. "Charlie is cooking breakfast, and no, no bacon in the bed. I'm sorry." He leans over to press a soft kiss in way of greeting, and is mightily surprised when it's returned. He'll never get used to that. He's waited four years for this moment.

"Don't suppose we could have it brought up?" Dean is inhaling the scent wafting up the stairs, like a ravenous bloodhound. Hell, he's practically drooling too.

"Only on birthdays and special occasions, dude. Can't have you getting lazy now." Sam sits up and peels back the covers. Usually he's not one for mornings, but waking up next to Dean works wonders.

"So today isn't a special occasion?" Dean mock sulks, clinging to the covers and resolutely refuses to get up. "You woke up next to your potential love interest, that not qualify, huh?"

Sam rolls his eyes and glances toward the alarm clock. "No time. Perhaps on my day off, if you're lucky. Get that hot ass out of bed!" He turns to tug the covers off of Dean, laughing happily.

"Alright, alright! I'm coming, babe." Dean crawls off of the bed, tiptoeing slightly to join their lips together in a chaste kiss. "Lets go feed this ass!"


	28. Chapter 28

Sam arrives back to their dorm to find Charlie sat on the front steps, eyes twinkling with delight. "You're late. Fancied round two with the cute ass?" She's careful to keep her voice low, so as not to be overheard.

"Hello to you too." Sam greets, locking up Jess' car. "You know, you have the spare key. You didn't need to wait out here for me." He skirts around her obvious question, moving to open the front door. "Oh, and you'd better not hog the couch tonight. 'Cute ass' is coming over."

Charlie squeals with delight. "Finally! You two are /perfect/ for each other! My work here is done!" She skips in behind him, closing the door with a click.

"Charlie, we aren't together. He's just coming to watch a film.." Sam frowns, slipping out of his shoes, Charlie mimics him. He hangs up his satchel and heads through the kitchen to put his flasks in the sink.

"Is he bringing his own film?" She's still there, practically glued to his side, smiling brightly.

"Well yeah, but you do too." Sam points out, arms folding defensively. He didn't see the point in that one. "It's just one film.."

"Yeah. And I bet you asked for your favourite." She replies knowingly, prodding him gently on the arm. "You're in too deep, Sam. He'll break your heart if you're not careful."

Sam frowns, a little hurt at the assumption. He's not weak, working with Dean will be fine. What could possibly go wrong? "Are you saying that I'm not good enough for him?"

Charlie holds her hands up in surrender. "Gosh Sammy, no, I'd never say that! It's him I'm concerned about. You've known him for two months, and he's already pulling tricks. I just want my boy to be happy." She wraps her arms around him in a tight hug. 

Sam automatically returns the gesture, holding her in a bear-hug. "I shan't let him do anything else yet. I promise I'll be careful, okay? You're so good to me, Charlie. I'd be lost without you."

"You're gonna make me cry, Sam Campbell!" Charlie laughs happily, trying her hardest not to cry. "God, I wish we weren't both gay. I'd marry you right this second!"

Sam chuckles and slowly lets go, taking her tiny hand in his large one. "Where's Cas? I need to talk this through with him."

"Out getting snacks and dinner with Jess."

"You can give Fizz her dinner, she'll be happy to see you." He pulls her into the kitchen, making kissy noises to the cat, who's currently winding around their legs.

"You know how much I love her." Charlie bends to pick the fluffy white feline up, pressing a soft kiss to her little pink nose.

"She loves you too." He moves away to run himself a cold glass of water. "You know where her tuna is?"

"Already on it, Mr. Samwise!" She teases playfully, carrying the cat over to the counter. The soft meowing and the cupboard opening confirms his thoughts, and he takes a large gulp of the refreshing liquid.

"You can't call me that tonight!" He grumbles amusedly, glancing over at her. "I might need something else besides pizza.." He sets the glass down on the counter.

Charlie giggles softly and moves to give him another hug. "That's what she said! Leave it all to me, Mr. Samwise! Go and get changed for your not-date." She ushers him out of the kitchen.

Laughing, and a little nervous, Sam charges up the stairs to get changed. He can't help but wonder what Dean will be wearing. Now is not the time to let his mind wander. Undressing in double quick time, he hangs up the rented suit and rummages for his favourite jeans.

His heart is beating rapidly, stomach all fluttery, and he can't seem to get Dean out of his head. Jeans on, he tries to find a tee shirt that doesn't have a hole in. Nope, too geeky for a first not-date. He puts that one back, pulling out his red flannel shirt and a charcoal grey tee that may or may not be related to Starbucks and Star Wars.

He pulls them on and rolls up his flannel sleeves before heading back downstairs. Charlie is now in the lounge, TV on and is dusting.

"Have you picked up all your dirty laundry?" She teases, spraying polish on the coffee table and rubs vigorously. This is mother-hen Charlie mode. Only the best for potential boyfriends, which makes him all the more nervous.

"Yes, mom." Sam mumbles, cheeks heating. "Does that mean I'm allowed boys in my room?" She flings the duster at him.

"No. There will be no copulating while I am present, thank you very much!" 

"Gross!" He pulls a face, chucking the duster back. He goes to open the windows, attempting to air out the smell of polish.

"Has he said what time he's coming?" She wipes the TV screen clean. Sam shakes his head, lifting the spray can. 

"I asked him to text before he sets off." He bites back the feeling growing in his throat. "He's bringing beer too."

Charlie turns to face him, grinning happily. "I think he's wooing you! It'll be flowers and chocolates next!"

"I don't need wooing. He's already seen..." He trails off, blushing with embarrassment. "Well. That's probably why you're here."

Charlie raises her eyebrows. "Already? Tell me you've not fucked yet?" She looks worried.

"No! He came on to me, and he kinda..."

"Spit it out Sam, I'm your best friend!"

"...Sucked my dick..."

Charlie gasps loudly and practically screams in his ear. Sam attempts to hold her at bay, though her tickling proves it futile.

"Charlie! Stop that!" He laughs, trying his best to defend himself, body doubling over in an attempt to protect himself, tears leaking from his eyes.

"I never thought such a big guy like you would be so ticklish! I'm so going to tell Dean!" She crows happily, taking the spray back into the kitchen. Sam sits down on the couch, staring nervously at his phone.

He considers in sending Dean a text, but would that make him sound needy? This was supposed to be a casual hang out, a chance to relax after a long day at work. He find himself already in his messages, the blinking line awaiting his typed reply. He groans quietly and hits the cancel button, dropping his phone into his lap, face buried in his palms.

It's all too much. Having a crush and wanting a relationship are two different things. Sam has expectations, and understandably, if they aren't met he'll feel crushed. It is the fear of not knowing that weighs heavy in his stomach. That small voice in the back of his head whispers that he isn't good enough. And there's the rub. He is afraid of losing everything.

"Sam, honey. I made coffee." Charlie's hand rests gently on his shoulder, warm and steady. "Come on, darling, it'll be okay." She sets the mug down on a novelty coaster. "I'm not going to leave you to struggle through this alone. You can't get rid of me that easily." She laughs fondly, tone soothing Sam.

She sits down beside him, turning his stiff body towards her. "Come on, Moose. Give your little sister a hug."

He flops down against her, face buried against her neck. "You wish." Is his muffled reply, allowing himself to be held.

"Yeah. I do wish. You're like a big brother to me. I think I might have to adopt you." She kisses his hair, stroking gentle circles between his shoulder blades. "Do you need me to ring him?" Sam groans quietly, protesting. "Okay. I'm sure he'll be here soon." 

There's a click to the door as Jess and Castiel let themselves in. Sam can smell pizza, and it makes his mouth water. "Is that pepperoni?" He calls out, comfortable laying on Charlie for the time being.

"Hello to you too, gorgeous!" Castiel greets, feigning offence at being ignored in favour of pizza. "Good tutoring session?" There's a slight hint of something which Sam can't quite fathom out.

"It was okay. Despite Dean wanting to watch Stephen King's It..." He clears his throat and tries not to shudder. Charlie makes a soft soothing sound and continues stroking through his hair, which is probably a bird's nest by now.

"I thought you liked horror movies?" Cas approaches the couch, without the pizza, Sam notes sadly. It's nice to see his face though.

"I do, but not clowns.." He watches Cas kneel on the floor in front of the couch. "Childhood phobia." He explains, worrying his lip, feeling a little ridiculous.

"We all have our fears, honey." Jess soothes, switching on the lamps as it steadily grows darker outside.

"Did you bring enough for another one? We invited Dean to come over." Charlie moves the subject along. If Castiel is annoyed, he certainly doesn't show it.

The somewhat tense silence is disturbed by a purring engine that seems to grow louder as it approaches. Headlights lighting up the lounge as it trundles up the smooth driveway. Charlie lets out a soft noise of appreciation.

She gently rouses him, smoothing down tangled hair with her compact brush.

Sam rubs his eyes and turns on the two lamps either side of the couch, gulping at his coffee before padding to the front door.

"I hope I'm not too late." Dean's gruff voice has Sam looking hurriedly up, and damn, soft brown hair is gelled up into spikes. Sam has never been happier.

"Not at all! Come on in. Shoes off!" Sam pulls back to make room, taking the eight-pack of beer from him. Dean closes the door behind him, toeing off thick, tan coloured boots.

Sam hurries to the kitchen for a bottle opener, leading Dean into the lounge on his way back. "Was the traffic bad?" He asked, gesturing for Dean to sit beside him, Castiel on his other side.

"A little. I had to go to the store for the beer. The queue was hell itself." He passes Sam the DVD and sits down with a quiet thump.

"Sounds about right.. I like to stock up on beer, saves having to do that too often. Thanks." He sets the DVD case on the coffee table and opens a beer for everyone. "Jess and Charlie are arranging tonight's food." 

"Gotcha. Something smells good!" He comments, taking a sip from his chilled bottle, inhaling deeply. Sam chuckles and takes a swig of his own. 

"We brought in two large pepperoni pizzas and plenty of fries." Cas inputs grinning widely at Dean.

"Mmm. Sounds tasty!" Dean makes a soft sound of appreciation. "Does she need any help?"

"I'm sure she'll shout when it's ready. She usually sticks it all on one tray to carry through." He stands to go and close the curtains, turning the TV on in the process.

"It's a nice little dorm you've got here." Dean comments, sipping his beer while he watches Sam.

"Thanks. Couldn't keep it tidy without the help from my girls." Sam smiles warmly, adjusting the volume. He crosses back to pick up the DVD, gently lifting the disk out to pop in the player. "This is my favourite film."

"Yeah? One of mine too. Though its a big list to sort through." Dean chuckles. "The choreography is sweet as fuck. Not to mention bad ass!"

"And here I was, thinking you only watched it for Uma Thurman!" Sam teases, closing the disk tray.

"As cool as she is, she's not my type. At all. Now, if she were a dude, eh, possibly." He waves his bottle dismissively, patting the seat beside him. "You gonna stand there all night?"

"Coming, /Bill!/" Sam snorts, quietly stomping over to flop down on the couch. Dean grunts and shoves him gently.

Charlie returns a few minutes later with some napkins and the huge tray of food. "You've not started without me? Move over Sam, your fat ass is hogging Castiel's seat!" She teases, setting the tray onto the coffee table, before joining Jess in the armchair. 

Sam shuffles over, thigh bumping Dean's. "It's not fat! It's muscled!" He protests, hitting play on the remote and lifts the tray into his lap.

Dean chuckles quietly and reaches for a slice of pizza, content to stuff his face. Sam rolls his eyes, taking a bite of pizza for himself.

Dean chuckles quietly and reaches for a slice of pizza, content to stuff his face. Sam rolls his eyes, taking a bite of pizza for himself.

By the middle of the film, they've practically demolished the whole lot, Dean looking as though he's slipping into a food coma; one hand on his slightly bloated belly, the other lifts his beer to his lips. Sam decides that he likes this look. He quietly sets the tray down on the coffee table, before pulling Cas into a warm cuddle.

Dean spares them a glance, one eyebrow raised in a curious gesture, before promptly flopping down against Sam's side. "Hold me then!" He teases playfully, swigging his beer. Castiel reaches over to lightly bop Dean over the head, which results in the two having a mock fight, hands slapping uselessly at each other.

"Don't fight over me, you two!" Sam laughs, very amused. "Behave and watch the film." He doesn't cuddle either of them until they've calmed down , helping himself to another beer.

The film soon finishes, much to Sam's dismay. Cas is asleep beside him, and Dean is burrowing into Sam's side. Jess and Charlie have already gone to bed.

"You cold?" He whispers, wrapping his arms around the man. It feels tender, natural. Like this was what Sam had needed. Dean shifts in his arms, head tilting back to look up at Sam, resting against his shoulder. Time seems to slow around them, only for them. Dean's lips are pursed, and damn, Sam wants to kiss him something wicked.

"A little." Dean whispers, breath ghosting across Sam's face, green eyes transfixed upon him. One hand tentatively reaches up to stroke Sam's cheek, pulling him down.

"I can't get you like that..." Sam breathes, hands reaching for Dean's hips, attempting to pull the man into his lap. Dean soon gets the idea, one leg lifting over Sam's thighs to straddle him.

The warmth is instant, firm bodyweight pressed against him. Sam wraps one arm around Dean, and pulls him in for a soft kiss. It's gentle, slow and almost loving, completely different to what they shared that morning, but is still feels right. Dean's hands are in his hair, tipping his head back for better access. Sam groans quietly at the tongue wriggling into his mouth: the sound is muffled by Dean's hot mouth, tongue rubbing against his.

He can taste Dean's beer, finally smell that cologne - dark and spicy with hints of cinnamon and musk, skin and faint sweat linger beneath. 

His free hand trails up Dean's back, smoothing over firm muscle, hard shoulders, caresses his neck, strong jaw, high cheekbones, and buries itself into short, soft brown hair.

This is a moment he never wants to end.

"If you could include me in your little tryst, I'd be very happy to share, Dean." Castiel interrupts them. He'd obviously been watching them, the sly devil. "I can't crash on the couch, if you two are groping each other." There's amusement in the tone of his voice, Sam knows he'll have to question all of this later.

He can feel Dean's heart hammer with surprise, cheeks darkening with a dusky pink. Sam just wants to ravish him right there. He bucks his hips in a playful manner, feeling Dean's growing erection. The little shit! He's getting off on being caught!

"Alright. You'd better come along to make sure he doesn't steal me." He teases, watching Dean slide off his lap and stand before him, expression hungry.

"Oh, I'm there. Don't you worry." Cas slowly pushes upright, briefly moving away to turn the electrical items off. 

Sam laughs quietly, heaving himself to his feet. "Come on you," He claps his hand against Dean's ass. "lets get you some pyjamas!" He teases playfully, leading Dean out and up to his bedroom.

He doesn't get much of a chance to get through the doorway, when Dean practically jumps him, forcefully pushing them towards the bed. They land in a heap with a dull thud, Sam face down into the covers, Dean rutting against his ass.

"Your boyfriend is a kinky bitch, you know that?" Dean grunts, giving one ass cheek a firm slap, hips chasing after it.

"Sounds like someone else is too." Sam comments, craning his head to glance over a shoulder. He can feel his dick growing just by the rough handling alone.

"Not gonna lie, I love it." He slaps the other ass cheek and wriggles back. "Can you just have a naked movie night the next time? Clothes are a hindrance."

Sam laughs quietly, rolling onto his back, unfastening his jeans. "That sounds dangerously close to a bad porno... Would shorts and a tee shirt be okay? I'd have to crank the heating up though."

"Anything in which resulted in having you naked in the five minutes or less, would be greatly appreciated." Dean stands to strip out of his clothes, and damn, this is the first time Sam will have seen him naked...

"What about onesies? Are you particularly averse to those?" Sam wants to approach him with the whole dating question, but he doesn't know how.

"Tell me you don't have one..?" Dean lets his tee fall to the floor, and Sam revels in firm muscles and tight belly. He's not as heavily muscled as Sam, but it's a very attractive sight.

"Superman." He replies, kicking out of his jeans. "I modified the pockets so I could pee easier."

Dean smirks at him, eyes darkening. "You dirty dog! I bet that's not all you did it for!" Sam hums softly, fighting a smirk.

"Maybe..." Sam replies nonchalantly, sitting up to pull his flannel and tee shirt off, sat there in socks and boxers. "So you want me naked, huh? Whatever for?"

Dean laughs and pushes his jeans down. "Depends. Want another blow, or perhaps I can try something else?" He steps towards the bed, playing with the waistband of his boxers.

Sam's cheeks are hot, and he has to look away for a moment. "I-I'm not ready for sex yet... It's complicated..." He can feel the pressure in his chest, lump forming in his throat.

"Hey... Sammy, it's okay... I respect your wishes." Dean sits on the edge of the bed, reaching out to tentatively rest a hand on Sam's thigh. "If you don't want to tell me, that's okay. I won't pressure you into anything." Sam has to admit, he's finding this side to Dean far more attractive.

"Perhaps another time...? What are we?" He sits up to look at the shorter brunet, wishing he could just hide.

"What would you like us to be? Friends? Study buddies?" Dean takes Sam's hand in his, thumb rubbing soothingly across his knuckles.

It's at that moment that Castiel joins them in the room. He smiles at them both before beginning to undress. "Sam, we need to talk about all this."

Sam's breath catches in his throat. "Yes. Did you arrange the whole suit thing earlier?" His mouth is dry and palms sweating, but he needs to be brave. Just like ripping off a band aid.

"We did." Cas replies, gesturing between himself and Dean. "Sam, I know this may seem a little confusing, and I don't want to take advantage of your gentle nature. I'm polyamorous, and while Dean is my best friend, I've become attached to the both of you. It doesn't mean that I necessarily want sex with Dean, but I am open to letting him build a relationship with you too."

Sam furrows his brow as he thinks it over. "But what if you get hurt, Cas? What if I get hurt?" He glances nervously between them.

"Sammy. We're all consenting adults here. We can work things out." Dean nods towards Castiel. "There's no rushing this, plenty of time to figure out the details as we go along."

Cas folds his jeans and sets them on the dresser before joining them both on the bed. "If you fall for Dean, then I'll still be happy, knowing I've brought you together." He reaches over to stroke Sam's face. "Trust me on this one."

"I can't be physical in that way... Not until I've sorted myself out." Sam's voice is soft and meek, already afraid that he'll be rebuffed come the the big push.

"Sam, it's okay. Sex isn't everything. I like you, okay? I know a good thing when I see it, and I'm not going to throw this chance away. Besides, you are worth more than that." Dean lifts their hands to kiss them softly. "I-I'm just no good when it comes to public affection." 

Cas shuffles closer to them. "And if you need public affection at any time, then I will be there to help Dean comfort you."

"I don't expect you to bend over backwards for me..." Sam dares to cling to that tiny spark of hope, meeting Castiel's blue gaze. "I'm sorry for blowing hot and cold on you..."

"Don't be. C'mon, I'll give you a cuddle before we sleep. Or we can talk some more? It's up to you." Cas replies as Dean lays down, gently tugging Sam with him, their hands still laced together.

"Thank you, Cas. It means the world to me." He takes a deep breath, staring up at the ceiling.

"Like I said, you are very deserving of affection. Respect too." He lays down on Sam's opposite side, rolled over so he can rest his head on Sam's chest.

Dean stretches out in a similar position. "I had fun today, thanks for inviting me." Sam feels very much comforted by all this affection.

"No problem. I'm glad that you wanted to come. You don't think we're rushing things?" Sam tilts his head to watch him, enjoying the side profile of Dean's face.

"Sam, I remember your first day here. You were possibly more clumsy than you are now. It was endearing, and I wanted to know you. You seemed so shy though, kinda withdrawn, so I waited until I saw that you had grown in confidence, as well as strength.. I'm glad Cas found you at that bar!" He playfully prods Sam's pecs. "Now, anymore mush and I'll have a cavity!"

Sam smiles warmly, pulling them both closer still. "I think I liked you both from day one. Its just I thought you were scary, unapproachable. Hell, I didn't even know you were gay! I didn't want to ruin things, because I wasn't ready. Wasn't even in the right headspace..."

"Don't be upset, but if anyone's ever hurt you, I will drive over to their house, and make them pay." Dean growls, Cas makes a soft agreeing sound.

Sam worries his lip nervously. "Dean... You don't need to do that... It's all in the past."

"It's not though. It's still conflicting with you, and it's not healthy babe. I don't want to see you sad." Dean rolls onto his side, elbow propping his head up. Sam just wants to hide away from everything. He doesn't deserve this kind of happiness.

"We're here for you, okay? You don't have to worry about anything. I got you, Sammy." Castiel strokes over Sam's ribs.

Sam closes his eyes and takes a shaky breath, glancing over to watch him shyly. He blames the beer. He's never been so fragile.. "Thank you."

"Come on now, we should get some sleep. Gonna be a long day tomorrow." Dean pulls the blankets over them all.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Upon preparing this chapter, I noticed that I had doubled up on some text, which had to be deleted. Unfortunately, this will shorten my overall wordcount, instead of it being 50,000 words. Oh well.

They manage to make it work somehow, though Sam isn't entirely sure that Dean is okay with sharing. It seems to be running smoothly, that is until their exams loom close and cuddle sessions turn into all night study sessions.

Dean has evolved into a cranky food monster, pretty much like Jess when it's her time of the month, thinks Sam. Dean won't revise unless Sam is there, and food is essential to get the man to concentrate.

It's like training a puppy..

Sam shakes his head in an attempt to focus, eyes a little unfocused as he stares down at his notebook; there's a smudge of chocolate in the right top corner, Dean's thumbprint left behind because Sam wasn't responding to him.

He groggily checks his watch, 9PM, and groans softly, deciding that coffee would be the best motivator for him right now. Pushing himself off of the floor, Sam makes a beeline for the kitchen, making a mental note to bring back something less sugary for Dean's consumption.

Castiel has made firm friends with a girl in his class, so no doubt the two are studying together. Meg, he thinks her name is. Nice girl. The pair seem like they are made for each other. Sam hopes that they'll start dating. He'll tell Cas to do so later.

Sam runs a hand through his hair, which is slightly longer now. He'd been growing it, much to Dean's delight, though Sam suspected it was because Dean was a hair puller when it came to sex..

"Sammy?" Dean's voice is a little hoarse, laced with a hint of tiredness that makes Sam want to pull him into a tight bear-hug. 

"Over here, babe. You wanna take a break?" He's busy filling the coffee maker, and jumps at the sudden arms wrapping around his middle.

"A break sounds amazing." Dean nuzzles Sam's neck affectionately, hands rubbing at his belly. Dean had come on in leaps and bounds with displaying affection. Sam was proud of his confidence, though part of him knew that Dean pushed himself to prove Castiel wrong. Sam inwardly sighs.

"You wanna put a movie on?" Dean suggests, kissing along the side of Sam's neck, rather amorously, Sam notes. Dean's hands wander down to unfasten Sam's belt, metal clinking softly as it's pulled apart and through the belt loops.

"Baby, if we have sex, then I'll be too tired to do any more revision." Sam whines, hating that he's trying to make Dean stop. His hands reach to catch the other's in their tracks. Feels Dean sighs against his back, warm breath upon his neck.

"But we don't have any lectures tomorrow..." Dean wheedles, clearly hoping to win Sam around. "I'll let you sleep in.." He punctuates his statement with a soft squeeze to the front of Sam's jeans.

Sam groans softly and grips the counter in an attempt to not grind into the touch. "One more hour and then I'm all yours. I promise." He turns to face Dean, pressing soft kisses to his boyfriend's lips.

Dean returns the gentle kiss, lavishing Sam with tender attention before pouring the hot coffee into two large mugs. "We got milk?"

"In the fridge, Dean. Like, y'know, where it belongs?" Sam teases, moving away to sit in his armchair, as opposed to lying on the floor. Dean huffs lightly and stomps about the kitchen, though judging by the sound of his footfalls, it's not done in a foul temper.

He leans his head against the chair back, eyes resting for a brief moment.

Sam doesn't realise that he fell asleep, not even when Dean is gently trying to rouse him with a gentle hand on a shoulder, and holding coffee under his nose. "Come on, sleeping beauty. Drink up, and lets head to bed. You're shattered.."

He manages to crack his eyes open a fraction, squinting against the lamplight, hands reaching out tentatively for the mug. Dean hands it over and perches on the armrest. Sam guesses that Dean's either drank his, or he's saving it to take up to bed.

"We'll make a proper go of things when this exam is out of the way. I'll take you on a date to celebrate." Dean promises, rubbing between Sam's shoulders. "Somewhere rock themed."

Sam smiles warmly, clinging to that glitter of hope and brief bubble of excitement. "That would be fun. I'd like that." He sips at his coffee, delighted by their shared interest for music. Though Sam would absolutely love to take them to a theatre.

Dean hums softly to fill the silence: Sam would prefer it if he sang. He strains to listen to any telltale signs of a song that he recognises.

"Are you humming Metallica?" He asks, turning to look Dean square in the eyes. A smirk twitches at the corners of his lips.

"Helps calm me down." Dean replies, looking a little bashful, though he does lean in to press a warm kiss to Sam's cheek. "Would you rather I sang something slower?"

"Do you know any slow rock songs?" Sam chuckles, lightly teasing him, and receives a playful hair ruffle in return.

"Course I do." Dean slides off of the armrest in order to gather up their notepads, clearly avoiding giving an answer.

"Yeah. Well, I'm waiting." Sam gulps at his coffee, happy to watch Dean's ass as he bends over.

"Do I have to? It's a little embarrassing to be put on the spot..." Dean straightens upright, rubbing the back of his neck shyly.

"No, it's perfectly fine babe. I'll just make sure that we do karaoke sometime." He drains his mug and sets it down on the coffee table. "You want me to grab yours?" He gestures to the mug as he hauls himself upright.

"Please. I'll go on up and make everything cosy." Dean pulls his books to his chest and heads for the stairs up to Sam's room.

Sam switches off the lamps, holds Dean's mug tightly in his grip and follows him up.

"You know, I was thinking. We should move in together after we graduate. If you still wanted to date me by then?" Sam casually drops the hint, setting Dean's mug on the beside cabinet before stepping away to undress for bed.

"Yeah? I'd like that. I'd like that a lot." Dean admits, looking quite dreamy as his gaze clouds over. 

Sam pulls on a pair of sleep pants before heading into the bathroom for his nightly routine.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning; kidnap ahead.
> 
> I didn't want to tag because of spoilers.

Sam leaves the dorm to go for a walk in a vain attempt to clear his overworked mind. With two sets of exams out of the way, things are due to return to their normalcy, if only for a short while. He expects they'll soon come back around. How he longs for graduation day..

Then there's the thought of Dean and him settling down together, which will be no easy task. There's possible job careers to consider too. And a dog! Sam longs for a puppy for them both to nurture. Their own little furbaby.

Sam sighs softly and glances in both directions before he crosses over the campus road, heading for the coffee shop to buy them coffee and donuts. A regular treat for Dean.

He hears the commotion before he sees it; loud screeching tyres and people yelling their annoyance. Passing it off as another jock speeding around campus, he steps inside the shop to make his purchases.

There's a slight queue, which doesn't bother Sam too much. Soft pop music plays over the speakers. Some bratty boy-band that he doesn't recognise. Dean would have thrown something at the CD player by now, and declared it a waste of good money.

Sam laughs to himself and shuffles along in the line, fishing out his wallet in preparation. A few acquaintances greet him warmly, sharing a few lighthearted jokes to occupy the time, and before he knows it; it's his turn at the counter.

He's soon back outside, clutching at his bag of donuts in his left and balancing the tray carefully on his right hand. He takes a brief moment to gaze up at the clouds, letting his mind wander back to the thought of Dean. He'd try and persuade the man to sit outside with him this afternoon. Soak up some of that sunshine.

A few cars pull up to the sidewalk, other students clambering out to get breakfast and the like, though he fails to see the ominously black van idle a short distance away. 

There's a sudden collision; someone accidentally bumping into him, and Sam momentarily loses his balance; falling flat on his ass as he tries to keep a hold of his purchases, which means that his head is unprotected as it crashes against the pavement.

Sam blacks out due to the intensity of such a knock, hot coffee splashing on him in the process. 

Before there's a chance for any passers by to converge around his limp form, a man exits the van and hurries to pull Sam into the back.

It all happens in less than five minutes, and the vehicle screeches away from the scene of the accident.


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning; kidnap ahead.
> 
> I didn't want to tag because of spoilers.

Sam leaves the dorm to go for a walk in a vain attempt to clear his overworked mind. With two sets of exams out of the way, things are due to return to their normalcy, if only for a short while. He expects they'll soon come back around. How he longs for graduation day..

Then there's the thought of Dean and him settling down together, which will be no easy task. There's possible job careers to consider too. And a dog! Sam longs for a puppy for them both to nurture. Their own little furbaby.

Sam sighs softly and glances in both directions before he crosses over the campus road, heading for the coffee shop to buy them coffee and donuts. A regular treat for Dean.

He hears the commotion before he sees it; loud screeching tyres and people yelling their annoyance. Passing it off as another jock speeding around campus, he steps inside the shop to make his purchases.

There's a slight queue, which doesn't bother Sam too much. Soft pop music plays over the speakers. Some bratty boy-band that he doesn't recognise. Dean would have thrown something at the CD player by now, and declared it a waste of good money.

Sam laughs to himself and shuffles along in the line, fishing out his wallet in preparation. A few acquaintances greet him warmly, sharing a few lighthearted jokes to occupy the time, and before he knows it; it's his turn at the counter.

He's soon back outside, clutching at his bag of donuts in his left and balancing the tray carefully on his right hand. He takes a brief moment to gaze up at the clouds, letting his mind wander back to the thought of Dean. He'd try and persuade the man to sit outside with him this afternoon. Soak up some of that sunshine.

A few cars pull up to the sidewalk, other students clambering out to get breakfast and the like, though he fails to see the ominously black van idle a short distance away. 

There's a sudden collision; someone accidentally bumping into him, and Sam momentarily loses his balance; falling flat on his ass as he tries to keep a hold of his purchases, which means that his head is unprotected as it crashes against the pavement.

Sam blacks out due to the intensity of such a knock, hot coffee splashing on him in the process. 

Before there's a chance for any passers by to converge around his limp form, a man exits the van and hurries to pull Sam into the back.

It all happens in less than five minutes, and the vehicle screeches away from the scene of the accident.


	32. Chapter 32

Sam eventually comes to, though his head is such a disorganised chaos it hurts to think. He's aware that he is sitting upright but bound to a chair. A little wriggle confirms that the structure is indeed solid and capable of holding him there.

He daren't crane his neck for fear of causing pain to lance through his skull. His head hurts enough already. The room he's being kept in is mostly pitch black. If it even is a room.. There's a faint red dot blurring in and out of focus, and Sam wishes that it would just stop dancing in front of his eyes.

His mouth is bone dry, wedged open with something round and smooth. A slight plastic taste upon his tongue, tight straps holding the contraption to his face. There's drool crusting on his chin, at least, he hopes that it's drool and not something else. The only fluid he can think of right now is blood.

The darkness drags him back down into sweet nothingness. Sam welcomes it willingly. He dreams no dreams.


	33. Chapter 33

A deafening crackle of static startles Sam out of his restless unconsciousness. The jerk of his neck sends shock waves up and through his skull, eyes watering at the fresh onslaught of pain. He'd cry if he could.

Cramp spasms through his back and legs from being forced to sit in the same position for God knows how long. It's hard to tell if it's day or night. Sam can't help but worry that he'll go blind from prolonged darkness. It only takes three days..

Sucking in a panicky breath, he tries to slow down his racing heart. It'll make him sick if he works himself up. Now is not the best time to have a full blown panic attack.

The red light is blinking now, and Sam is unsure if it is caused by a device recording his behaviour, or an electrical item on standby. He hopes it's the latter, as being videoed is a little too much to think about. Not that that this isn't sickeningly twisted. Heaven, no.

The static noise has faded into silence, though Sam's ears ring with tinnitus. He wishes that he could rub the noise right out of his eardrums, but he suspects that his wrists are firmly manacled to the armrests of his chair.

Man, he needs a drink... Sam groans roughly around the lump in his mouth, tongue trapped uselessly beneath it. His throat feels like sandpaper...

The emptiness yawns like a gaping maw, swallowing him whole into its endless abyss. Sam's eyes prickle in discomfort, making him yearn for the ability to rub away the ache.

There's nothing much else he can do, save for blinking and tapping his bare feet against the rough floor. The boredom seems much worse without other senses to stimulate his mind.

Time passes by, but he's not sure how long exactly. It's hard to tell without daylight. The only thing he does know, is that he can still see. The blinking red dot keeps his focus. He's tried counting the flashes, but it's of no use. What would that do?

There's more pressing matters beside the cramp in his back and legs, the numbness in his ass, and the stiffness of his jaw. His bladder is painfully full, screaming at him to relieve the pressure. But there is no way in hell that he is going to piss himself.

Sam tenses his thighs, clenches his ass in an effort not to lose control of his bladder. If he'd had the ability to use his hands, things would be a little easier.

Anything would be welcome right about now...

The sudden blast of white noise almost scares the shit out of him, heart pounding in the fight or flight response. The blinking light turns steady and the screen it belongs to, flickers on. Sam closes his eyes against the onslaught of bright light.

At least he isn't blind. Not completely vulnerable..

Squinting against the glow, he slowly allows his eyes to become accustomed. It's a simple white screen that glares far too much, but gives him the chance to look around his surroundings. Not that he can look behind him, but he supposes that it's just a wall to his back.

He appears to be fastened into an old dentist's chair, a heavy duty harness holds his body in place. The leather straps to his wrists effectively stop him from trying to undo the buckles. His ankles are free, so that's a bonus.

A door clicks open from somewhere behind him and heavy footsteps enter the room. Panic grips him tight, like a vice squeezing his very marrow. It's hard to breathe and he finds himself gasping around the gag.

A gloved hand covers his eyes, hot breath ghosting over his ear and cheek. The voice that follows turns his blood cold, stomach heavy with dread. "Now, I want you to be a good little boy. Can you do that for me, poppet?"

Sam swallows thickly, throat as dry as the Sahara desert and tries not to whimper. A hand twists into his hair and jerks hard. "Answer me!" The voice snarls menacingly. The resulting pain is like fire burning his scalp and Sam's eyes water.

He hurriedly nods, fearing another hair pull as punishment. It's a burst of sickening relief when he doesn't get one. His damned bladder kicks in its protest again.

"Good boy. Now, I'm going to remove your gag. No screaming, otherwise you'll receive a worse punishment than this." Sam remains still as the straps to his gag are loosened, jaw slack as the ball is removed, and fuck, does that feel good!

He rocks his jaw from side to side in order to relieve the cramp, tongue trying its best to wet his mouth and lips. 

The hand moves back to his hair and for a fleeting moment, Sam is petrified this man will go back upon his word. Instead, the touch is almost gentle, if it were not for the owner.

Sam is all too aware of who this person is, and it chills him to the core. Luke, or Lucifer as he liked to be known as, was his ex. A seemingly innocent young man that Jess had helped him become aquatinted with, only things soon unravelled, and Luke became a little unhinged.. Things were far too intense, if not a little creepy, and Sam had to break off their relationship. For his own safety of course.

Two years on and it seemed that Lucifer hasn't gotten the message. The devil incarnate indeed!

Sam can't take it anymore and dares to croak out a desperate plea. "Please... I need to pee..."

The hand withdraws and Sam takes the brief moment to relax, but it's short-lived as it returns to unfasten his jeans. It's all kinds of wrong and he feels the urge to squirm away, stomach churning with unease.

He clamps his jaw tightly shut as he's exposed to the cool stale air. The glove is smooth leather, if not a little worn in places, and teasing as it holds him loosely. "Hurry it up." The voice drops venomously with disdain, and Sam hastens to relax his bladder; unwilling to think about what he is pissing into.

The feeling is amazing, Sam never thought he'd finish emptying, and he exhales slowly in gratitude. Instead of the shake and tuck routine, he's left as he is, which is a little embarrassing.

The footsteps move away, pausing to do something that Sam can't work out, before they return. "I want you to open your eyes and drink up for me. No spitting, as I'm sure you're quite thirsty by now." Sam doesn't want to, but he knows that if he doesn't behave as expected, then he won't get a drink at all.

The water is refreshingly cold as he greedily gulps it down, soothing his throat in the process. The glass is refilled and offered to him again, to which he willingly accepts. The process is repeated until he has successfully quenched his thirst.

Once that need is met, Sam is left to his own devices, this time without the gag. It's a small mercy, to which he isn't going to object to. Overcome with tiredness, he closes his eyes to sleep.

The next time he awakes is to cold air enveloping his body. It sickens him to be naked against his will, but there isn't much he can do otherwise.

The TV flickers with a few still images; mainly screenshots from various porn films. Sam's dick jerks at the sight, betraying his wishes. There's a delightful body which reminds him so much of Dean's, and the pang of despair shoots through him.

He wonders if Dean is okay. If he's looking for him right now. He really hopes that's true, because this is hell, and Sam would rather not need to seek professional counselling afterwards.

Sam closes his eyes against the images being shown, unwilling to play to Lucifer's mind games. Shrill screams blare through the speakers, causing Sam's eyes to fly open in mild panic. Heart pounding in his chest, breathless with fright, he stares down at his arousal, willing it to deflate. He won't allow himself to be manipulated in this way.

Lucifer's voice comes over the tannoy system, harsh and cruel. It makes Sam's stomach clench unpleasantly. "You will look at the screen, Samuel, otherwise there will be consequences."

Sam's ears are assaulted with the screams again, and he tries his best to just ignore the deafening sound. It's no use though, it's too irritating to ignore. He stares determinedly at the screen, jaw clenched so hard that his teeth ache.

The sound stops so suddenly that his ears are ringing. Sam squirms at the images being shown; various deplorable acts which should have been banned long ago. Thankfully, his dick seems to understand that this is wrong and wilts pathetically.

Over the next God knows how long, Sam is shown various lewd screen stills, and every time he closes his eyes against them the screaming is played. It's guerrilla tactics, intended to torture him into submission. Either that or drive him insane.

Eventually, the screen fades to black and Sam is left in the cold, silent darkness. He takes the opportunity to try and get some sleep, as fruitless as it seems to be.

Hunger pangs gnawing at his belly wakes him from his restless sleep. He refuses to open his eyes, attempting to sink back into unconsciousness, but the cramps are too much to ignore.

Steady blinking red greets his tired eyes and he wishes he could rub his temples to prevent the headache that is forming. Cold and distressed, Sam lets out a soft whimper, trying his damned hardest to curl in on himself, forgetting the restraints keeping him stretched out.

He spaces out, unaware of time passing by, unfeeling and desperately alone.


	34. Chapter 34

He barely realises when Lucifer enters the room: a flickering lightbulb poorly illuminates the four walls around him. Sam flexes his toes in an attempt to get the blood flowing around again.

"Dinner is ready, Samuel. Now, do you think you can manage to feed yourself without misbehaving, hmm?" Lucifer's tone is condescending, and for a split second, Sam wonders how the hell he ever put up with this man in the past.

He nods carefully, trying not to jostle his aching head, and receives a harsh snap to the knuckles with a strap of stiff leather. He yelps in pain and fights uselessly against his restraints. 

"Use your words, Samuel."

"Yes... Please.." He manages to grit out, swallowing down the bile that threatens to claw it's way up his throat.

Lucifer's answering smirk is cruel and unfeeling as he moves away to presumably fetch Sam's meal. Sam is filled with dread as he waits for the others return. He doesn't even want to think of what he's being fed.

Lucifer returns with a hostess trolley and what appears to be a large pitcher of water and a bowl of soup. Sam would laugh at the apron he's wearing, but it would only risk his safety.

He's already suffered at the hand of this man.

Cold hands move to unfasten one wrist from the chair, before turning to the other. As soon as his hands are free, Sam hurriedly rubs the ache away from his wrists, hazel eyes wearily watching for any signs of danger. Lucifer calmly hands him the bowl and a spoon. To Sam's disappointment, the soup is stone-cold. He eats as quickly as is possible, hoping that his stomach will cope.

As soon as his pathetic meal has been consumed, he drinks a plastic cup of water, this time slowly so he doesn't get bloat. Eventually though, he's ran out of things to stall with.

"I need to pee." He announces bluntly, hoping that he'll be allowed some privacy this time. It's a long shot, but it's something he can focus on. Instead of all the other shit that's festering in his mind.

Lucifer snorts softly and leaves the pitcher of water on the floor, along with the beaker. "Now, I'm just taking this trolley out of the room. Be a good boy and leave your restraints alone. I needn't warn you again." He leaves without a backwards glance.

Sam wonders what the hell is going to happen next, but with the need to pee in the forefront of his mind, he isn't going to dwell on anything else for the time being. He'd rather not pee into his water, after all, it may be the only liquid he's ever going to get.

Still, it seems far too crude to piss on the floor like some animal, and Sam is too proud for that. So instead, he takes what pride he has left and does just that, seeing as there isn't really any other alternative. The soft splashing of urine is oddly comforting, but the smell of ammonia is something that will reek for a long while.

"Such a good boy." Lucifer interrupts, sounding almost proud. The thought alone makes Sam's skin crawl, and he has to hide a shudder. "Do you want to watch a little TV now, hmm? If you promise to do as I say, I shan't tie your wrists down."

It seems to good to be true, and Sam just knows that there has to be a catch. Lucifer reaches into his pocket and produces a tiny remote, with which he turns the TV on. Immediately, loud porn plays out on the screen and Sam does his best to not react

It's only when it suddenly changes to clown porn that Sam feels the meltdown happening. He'd really hoped that Lucifer had forgotten about his phobia. Clearly not, and the man was intent on using it as some twisted form of torture.

"You are to become hard. I want you coming from this, otherwise there will be trouble, Samuel. Do you need me to spell it out for you?" The man's voice is dark, flat and menacing. Sam doesn't want to ever get on his wrong side.

It's a major struggle, and he has to think of Dean just to get it up. He daren't directly look at the motherfucking clowns onscreen, because he'll lose all progress. He hopes that his stare isn't too glassy, and that Lucifer has fallen for it.

He lacks finesse, hand working quick and hard and messy. It hurts a little, but the sooner this is over the better. What he really hopes for, is that his captor soon becomes tired of him and releases Sam back into the great outdoors. Sam really doesn't want to be stuck in this shithole, POW camp wannabe.

He battles on, grimly thinking of Dean, hand stripping himself at an alarming pace. Chafing is nothing compared to what punishment that lies in wait. Sam can always recover from such a small insignificance.

The sudden sound of moaning startles the shit out of him, and Sam shoots his load like an awkward teenager. Lucifer appears to be pleased by this though, even goes as far as patting Sam's aching thigh. "Good boy."

The crude excuse for porn is turned off, though it doesn't look as though Sam is going to be left alone just yet. He finds the chair tilting back with a creaky whine of electronics; the harness effectively keeping him from sliding out of his seat.

"Knees up and apart, there's a good boy." Sam obeys without question, currently too blissed out to care. Even though his release was pretty unsatisfactory. There's a sudden pressure of ankle cuffs and a slight tugging. "Spreader bar." The devil incarnate informs him; dark humour colouring his voice.

Sam simply lets his head rest against the peeling material of the chair and closes his eyes. This isn't so bad, just means he won't be able to stretch out comfortably.

He's soon wrong though. Especially when he finds two slicked up fingers circling his pucker. He'd not even heard the telltale snap of a lube cap being opened. Or he hoped that that was lube being used, he shuddered in disgust and didn't want to think about that any further.

What futile resistance he has going doesn't stop Lucifer from doing what he wants. Two fingers push into him without mercy, wasting no time in getting him stretched. It burns like fire has been rammed into his ass, and Sam can't help stifle the cry that tears free.

It's very distressing and his anxiety is skyrocketing. All the tears in the world isn't going to stop his psycho ex. Not even the first time when he'd insisted that Sam try out knife play. The resulting scar was just hideous, and he'd been lucky not to end up disfigured like something out of a damn horror movie.

Two fingers turn into three, then four, before they withdraw. This time he does hear the snap, just barely audible above the rushing of blood in his eardrums. He really hopes that it isn't going to be penetrative sex, because he's sworn off of that. Especially with the man that's horrified him out of it.

Instead, he feels something cold and unyielding. Terror grips him tight, unwilling to let go. He can't move or fight against it. Just has to be brave, take it just this once, and maybe it'll never happen again.

The stretch is far worse than the fingers and Sam howls in pain. He feelsy as though he is being torn apart, filled far too full and split in two. The slow shove eventually stops and he's left sobbing in agony.

"Now, keep still, and don't move. I'm sure you don't want broken glass in your ass. Get some sleep, and I'll be back to check on you later." Lucifer stands and gives the crude dildo a little wiggle, that sends Sam into more hysterics, before he leaves the room.

The door locks shut and the flickering bulb switches off, leaving Sam in the maddening darkness.

Sam isn't sure whether he's dreaming or awake. He knows for sure that he is hallucinating, though that too is becoming hard to believe.

He can see Dean, as clear as day, sat before him on the soft sand, dressed in red shorts and nursing a beer. The sun is high in the sky and the sea laps calmly at the shoreline. It's just them out here, all alone in this perfect little getaway, and Sam wonders why they hadn't done this before. Just take a break and escape the real world. Just like his did with Cas and the girls.

He reaches out to lace his fingers with Dean's, noticing sun-kissed freckles littering his boyfriend's skin. Oh how Sam adores those, wishes he could count and kiss each and every one of them. He's got plenty of time. An eternity with this man to be exact. Sam really wants to marry him.

Hope comes thick and fast, making his chest ache with such longing and blossoming love, so pure in its form that he feels one with Dean. Soulmates.

The scene shifts and the two are sat by the shoreline, bare feet dipped into the sea. The smell of sea-foam greets Sam's nostrils and he inhales greedily, loving the unusual salty tang. It makes him oddly homesick though. Loneliness courses through his veins. He misses his mama...

As soon as they've graduated, he's going to take Dean home. They'll find a nice place to live there. Somewhere not too far from his family. From his childhood home. Sam really wants to start a family too. That would make his mama so happy.

He can just picture their babies; one his and one Dean's. Two little chubby toddlers getting into all sorts of trouble. Christmases would become even more better with them around. Two little boys would be amazing, but either gender is just fine.

He longs to see Dean's brilliant smile. His green eyes always seem to light up when he's happy. Sam adores that smile. Adores the bones off of Dean. So, so much.

Loud frantic screams shatter apart the perfect world forming inside his head. Sam is sure that he can feel it splinter away. Sharp and stinging, pain lancing through his core.

Only the pain is real and he can't figure out why. It's as though he is stuck in limbo, body disconnected from the real world, but he can feel physical harm. His mind is a jumbled mess of incoherent thoughts. A tangled ball of yarn that seems to keep unravelling only to knot up worse than before.

The room is dark, almost tomb-like. Stale air greets his nostrils, ammonia burning into his senses. There's a hot coppery scent coming through, and he can't seem to understand where it could be coming from.

He vaguely grasps that he's laying down, though it feels like floating. Can't move his legs. Can move his arms. He vaguely remembers not being able to close his mouth, but that works now. Can't seem to remember what's happened for him to be here. Wherever here is...

Dean. Dean is the only person he can remember right now. Keeps seeing his face, almost feels his touch. But it's dark... Isn't he supposed to be sleeping? Maybe he's dead? That's why it's so dark. He's dead and he never had the chance to tell Dean that he loves him.

Sam can't tear his eyes away from the horror on the screen. As much as his brain is screaming at him to look away, he's in shock. Terror courses through his veins, heart beating so hard it feels like it's going to explode right out of his ribs.

The images, now videos, have progressively gotten worse. Sicker. Darker. Twisted. Sam doesn't know how long he's been held as prisoner, but he does know that he needs to get out as soon as he can. Before the videos turn real.

It's not fetish porn that he's forced into watching now. It's cold, brutal murders, inhuman tortures. Heck, there's even a few clips of Heath Ledger's Joker. It'd be funny under different circumstances, but it's clear that Lucifer isn't even living in the real world. Well, with a name like Lucifer, it's to be expected really.

Sam feels the urge to vomit, particularly at the knifeplay on screen. He's never been squeamish with blood, but this is enough to make a surgeon faint. Instead, he vomits; burning, luminous green slop that smells like rancid milk.

It's disgusting enough, to be sick, but the fact that it's all over his grimy, bare skin is a hundred times worse. He's vaguely aware that he's got a concussion and a possible stomach illness working through his gut.

Time spent with Castiel when he needed a study partner.

He tries not to think of how the sick feels on his aching legs, breathes evenly through his nose so that he cannot smell the foul odour.

The screaming noises are at an almost constant, disturbing Sam's sleep and frazzling his nerves. He's lucky to get sleep, not sure how long he's actually resting for.

His stomach gurgles wickedly and he desperately wants to rub away the cramp. He's starving, malnourished and certainly thinner than he's ever been. Truth be told, he doesn't think he'll ever get out of here...

The very walls seem to talk to him, and he's sure that insanity is creeping in. No, that would be ridiculous. It's just cabin fever. That and sheer blind fear. Sam isn't well versed in psychiatry, so isn't going to attempt to diagnose himself.

Instead, he continues to stare blankly at the television monitor, fingers picking at a naked thigh. There's dried blood underneath his fingernails from repetitive bodily harm. Pain seems to bring him back into the present, though it never lasts long.

The glass bottle that had been crudely inserted into him, had started this whole self-harming spiral. Unfortunately, it had broken sometime in the last few- hours? Sam had no method of time-keeping, wasn't even sure that the bleeding had stopped.

What did it matter? Lucifer hadn't returned to check in on him, and the monstrosity was still playing on the TV. Probably a playlist, Sam's slightly sluggish brain provided.

There was broken glass by Sam's feet, along with unknown quantities of piss and blood. Oh, and puke... Sam would have been better in a zoo.

He dares to close his eyes, uncaring if the screams started. He'd simply had enough, and if that meant putting himself at risk to ignore all of this shitstorm swirling around him, then so be it.

The darkness greets him like an old friend.


	35. Chapter 35

There's sirens blaring somewhere nearby, but Sam can't seem to pinpoint the noise source, just figures that it's another twisted scene in his torture video. His eyes are stubborn to open, he'd rather not look at the screen one more time, but he manages to squint hesitantly in front of him.

He'd given up entertaining the thought of ever being found, just didn't consider anyone would know where he was, seeing as he had no idea himself. 

The scab starting to form on his left thigh itches and he scratches at it with his crusty nails, no doubt adding germs into the small wound. Oh well. It's reassuring to feel that initial sting of pain as it opens back up, and he digs his nails in harder, hissing delightedly at simply feeling alive. Even if it's just for one brief second.

There's a loud bang against the door behind him, hard boot on metal that sends panic flooding through Sam like a dam bursting. His broken sobs are barely heard over the incessant thumping as whomever it is tries to get into the room.

There's a sudden silence, before a handful of voices converse with each other. Sam is sure that he's dreaming this whole stupid scenario up. 

One strong voice calls out to him from outside of the darkness, calm and reassuring and Sam tells her to be quick. That he's afraid Lucifer will come back for him, realises just how absurd that sounds, and immediately rambles off the back story.

When the door is finally worked open, Sam holds his breath, terrified that it has been some sort of cruel trick, but a female sheriff steps into his field of view, and he breaks down completely.

His harsh sobbing and pathetic weeping, spur on the woman to get the EMT's inside. She curses softly at the state Sam is in, and pointedly doesn't gawp. In fact, Sam already quite likes her: the way she smiles tenderly at him, how authoritative she is, and how much respect she is receiving from her coworkers right now.

Sam is carefully freed and helped onto a gurney as it arrives. Pain lances through him at being moved, shards of glass clearly residing where they shouldn't be, and the EMT's curse at the treatment Sam has undergone. His cries die down a little, especially after they give him morphine.

He closes his eyes tight, unwilling to watch their progress out of this living hell that he's been forced to stay in. He's overwhelmed by the successful rescue, and eternally grateful. Relief washes over him at the thought of not having to watch his worst fears ever again, and sucks in huge, gasping lungfuls of clean air.

Pure daylight hurts his eyes when he tries to squint at his surroundings, and he has to cover them up with a hand. The ambulance is cool and quiet as they load him inside, and Sam hurriedly asks them to ring Dean, but he can only remember Jess's number.

He hears one rattling off medial lingo that he doesn't understand, but gathers the fact that they're discussing his health. He's hooked up to a heart machine and a saline drip before the ambulance pulls away from the sidewalk.

The sirens hurt Sam's ears, but it's nothing compared to what's happened, and even though it's somewhat triggering, he fights on through the anxiety.

He must have passed out due to sheer exhaustion, because when he comes back into semi-consciousness, he is laid up in a hospital bed. The air smells of disinfectant and cleanliness, reassuring him that everything is all right. Sleep claims him again and he willingly succumbs to its warm embrace.


	36. Chapter 36

Sore and groggy, Sam slowly opens his eyes, making a half-hearted attention to sit upright, but finds that he is unable to do so. A nurse is at his side in an instant, soothing him into quietness: he's had a major operation, and has to remain still while he recovers.

Sam, who used to have the patience of a saint, is fearful at the thought of being prone again for so long, and can feel the firm edge of a panic attack working through his nerves. 

The heart monitor beeps a little faster as his heart beats a little harder. By now, he's easily learnt to block out repetitive sounds, and finds himself staring up at the white ceiling. The lights have been dimmed for his eyes, which is delightful, and he isn't in the dark either.

There's a prickle of stitches in the back of his left thigh, and he's sure there are some in his ass, which is a little mortifying. His feet are bandaged, ankles sore from the heavy restraints. There's a cannula in the back of his right hand, and a catheter inserted into his bladder.

Sam groans at the slight pain from surgery, stretching out carefully in the bed. He's restless and achy, unsure if he could get out of bed and walk if he tried.

"You should be sleeping, baby. Try not to move too much." There's a voice at the end of his bed, rough and full of sleep. Masculine. Familiar.

Sam cranes his head against the pillows to look, body unwilling to lift him up. "Lay still, Sammy." There's a hand resting gently on his right calf, just above the ankle. "Hold on, baby boy."

The man gives a soft grunt and rises from his chair, knees creaking in the process and Sam could swear that he hear them pop. "Dean!" Sam exclaimed delightedly, free hand slapping excitedly on the bed. There are tears streaming from his eyes.

"Shh. I'm here baby. Not going anywhere." Dean carries the chair to Sam's bedside before sitting back down. His hand winds through grimy brown hair and he strokes Sam's head lovingly.

"I wanna go home..." Sam whimpers forlornly, silently beckoning Dean in for a soft kiss. The intimate, yet chaste contact soothes his inflamed soul, and Sam settles back down.

"I know baby. You just gotta rest up while the docs make you better." Dean's voice cracks and Sam can't bear to hear him sad.

"Iloveyou." The words tumble out of his parched mouth in a fierce rush. Dean blinks stupidly and scrubs his free hand over his face. Sam takes a deep breath and tries again. "I...love...you."

Dean's sunshine smile seems to brighten up the stark white room. Sam imagines that he can see yellow glowing all around him. He waits with baited breath for the returning confession.

"I love you too, beautiful." Dean steals a loving kiss from Sam's unsuspecting mouth. "Relax, Sammy. I'm not going anywhere."

Sam exhales into fits of giggles, throwing his free arm over to hug Dean tightly, though it's a bit of an awkward angle.

"Tell the doctors to pump me with steroids or something. I wanna hurry up and get better!" Sam is impatient, unwilling to be stuck in yet another unfamiliar place. Even if there is company this time.

"Give it time, baby boy. I'll be here all of the way." Dean reassures, petting Sam's arm gently. "I'm just gonna ring the gang. Do you want me to say hello?"

Sam nods enthusiastically and rests his head against his pillows, exhausted from all of the emotional drama. He closes his eyes and listens to Dean's voice as he makes the call, easily falling asleep.


	37. Chapter 37

Sam glares at the seemingly innocent pasta spread out on the plate before him, considers eating for all of about three seconds, and decides; fuck that, it could be poisoned. Or something as equally dangerous. He pushes his plate away and sips from his water glass.

Dean is sat across from him, green eyes full of concern as he watches Sam not eat. "Babe, it's only lasagne. Perfectly safe for you to eat." Dean's tone is very sympathetic, and it makes Sam's heart ache.

"I know..." He mumbles, averting his gaze away from the offending food and his worried boyfriend. It's been almost three weeks since his - yeah, he's not going to even think about that one. Three weeks seems more like three minutes. Sam is on edge all of the time.

He groans in discomfort, shifting awkwardly on the inflatable rubber tube he's sat on and lets out a soft sob. He's not been coping too well, what with being stuck in hospital for the last two and a half weeks, and now holed up in his dorm.

Dean sets down his cutlery and pushes back his chair to come around to Sam's right hand side. A hand slowly reaches out to feel at Sam's clammy forehead. Sam closes his eyes, hating at how he's making Dean upset. He blames himself for this whole mess, wishes it would just go away.

"I'm here baby. Do you want me to get your pills and cream? I can put your dinner in the fridge for later." Dean leans in to kiss Sam's forehead, and it's oh so sweet, that Sam just wants to melt into him.

The doctor had diagnosed Sam with PTSD and prescribed him with pills. Along with antibiotics and cream to rub on his sores. He'd never had been able to afford treatment if it wasn't for Jess's daddy. Sam was forever grateful for her support.

"Can I have something else to eat?" He asks in such a small voice, that he's sure Dean hasn't heard him. He daren't upset the one person he really needs right now.

"Course babe. Would you like some ice-cream?" Dean straightens up and takes Sam's plate into the kitchen, before returning with a carton of chocolate chip.

Sam smiles warmly, wrapping his fingers around the freezing carton, relishing in the tingle to his fingers. "I love you, you know that?"

Dean's smile brightens up the room. "I love you too, gorgeous." He fishes out a spoon from the drawer and spears it into Sam's ice-cream. "You'll eat something properly later?"

"I'll try." Sam admits, smiling widely, feeling like he's about to cry. For all the right reasons. 

They move to recline on the couch, after Sam's taken his pill and applied cream to his healing wounds. Dean supplies himself as Sam's body pillow, which is lovely.

"Am I squishing you?" Sam asks, trying not to lay too heavy upon his lover. Dean is laid comfortably beneath him, carton of ice-cream nestled between a shoulder and his neck.

"Not at all. It's like having a moose sized blanket on me." Dean chuckles fondly, reaching up to stroke Sam's bicep comfortingly.

"Moose-sized? I don't have antlers, honey." Sam replies, scooping out some ice-cream and accidentally drops some on Dean's throat.

The shrill yelp is hilarious to his ears, and Sam finds himself laughing for the first time in weeks. Dean soon joins in, even smears some of the offending frozen food on Sam's cheek.

Sam eats as much as he can, snuggling up to Dean, occasionally he'll spoon feed the other man. It takes a lot of energy, and he's soon snoring softly, head resting on Dean's warm chest.

Dean smiles softly, idly stroking circles over Sam's slightly narrow back with his fingertips, humming softly to keep Sam calm as he slept.


	38. Chapter 38

The days don't get much easier, but it feels nice to return to a routine. Sadly, he's had to drop law, because his incident. He's lost the ability to concentrate for long periods of time, and the nightmares are pretty much frequent.

At least with English studies, he's still got a chance of having a future job. Besides, Dean's tutored enough now, that he could theoretically help Sam if he needed it.

Sam refuses to leave the safety of their dorm, even though Lucifer has been locked away. There could be possible dangers at every turn, and Sam isn't going to risk it. Professor Winchester is very understanding, and even sends notes for Sam to read over. Not that reading is something Sam can focus on right now.

Jess and Charlie are due to come over within the hour: Sam swapped with Cas and moved in with Dean, Cas is staying with the girls. He doesn't know whether to be excited or fearful for their safety.

It's getting easier to sit for short periods of time, what with his stitches, but that doesn't mean Sam wants to be prone for too long. He has a need to move around their dorm room. Needs to keep moving, even if he can only manage a stilted limp.

He fears being trapped, held down against his wishes. It makes Dean sad and he knows it.

The evenings consist of Sam pacing, drinking gallons of water and checking every available corner. He point blank refuses to watch TV and rarely eats any meals. The nightmares are graphic and terrifying, and he can't come out of his sleep quick enough. His bloodcurdling screams probably disturb their neighbours, but Dean's assured him that they've had a vague memo.

Sam often finds himself staring blankly at a wall, not thinking anything, just tuned out of the world. It's at these times that Dean is practically glued to his side. Dean is his rock, and he'd have it no other way.

Sam's immediate family have been notified of the situation and are due to fly out sometime this week. He can't remember what day Dean said it was. He's no good at remembering. Can't even keep track of the day or the time.

"Babe. You want a drink?" Dean calls out to him, tone soft and gentle. He doesn't touch Sam for fear of shocking him out of his trance. Sam blinks sluggishly and slowly focuses on his boyfriend.

"Water, please?" The smile is tacked on as an afterthought. "I love you." He repeats for the umpteenth time that day. Needs to keep reassuring Dean. Needs to hear it back.

"I love you too, pumpkin." Dean doesn't even hesitate to reply, filling a pitcher of ice cold water and a plastic beaker to bring over for Sam. "The girls will be here soon. They've got something that might be helpful."

Sam watches Dean's approach with weary hazel eyes, though his curiosity is peaked. "Not more pills..." He's sure that he is rattling with every old man step he takes.

"No pills. Jessica's pa has been very generous to have this funded for you. I don't know how we're gonna repay him." Dean sits slowly down beside him, setting the pitcher and beaker on the coffee table.

"Funded?" Sam is confused. "I'm not a charity case, Dean. Jess should know that.." He doesn't touch his water just yet, but stares at a chunk of ice floating.

"She knows you aren't, but without her dad's generosity and their support, we'd have been up shitcreek by now." Dean offers his hand and Sam immediately clings to it.

"Make sure you order her some flowers.. And get her daddy a tie or something." Sam nods feverishly, leaning in to bury his face against Dean's neck. "Is your pa upset that I'm not attending class?"

"No babe, he's okay with it. You don't need to worry about class right now. C'mon, take a drink. It's okay." Dean rubs the back of Sam's hand in a soothing manner.

Sam reluctantly lets go and slowly pours himself a drink. His hands shake a little, but he manages to do it without spilling a drop. A big improvement.

Dean's phone chimes quietly and he opens the received text message. "They're just coming up the steps. Have a little drink and then I'll let them in."

Sam nods and sips at his water, relishing the icy chill that soothes his throat. He sets the plastic cup down and watches the door expectantly. "Do I need to close my eyes for the surprise?" His question is so childlike and innocent, yet he himself fails to see that. Certainly misses Dean's pained reaction.

"If you'd like to babe. Whatever you feel comfortable with." He stands and heads over to the door, keeping his pace slow so as not to startle Sam into a panic attack.

Sam isn't sure if he should close his eyes or not, so he simply stares at the wall opposite: frequently glancing over at the door in regular intervals.

There's a soft knock and Dean opens the door to let Charlie and Jess in. Sam sees a flash of red and his focus is brought upon Charlie. Or more her hair. He's more than a little mesmerised, if Charlie is uncomfortable at all, then she doesn't show it. 

Jess follows in after her, but she's not looking at him. Sam follows her gaze and absorbs the sight of a fluffy dog walking by her side.

"Jess, we aren't allowed animals on campus..." Sam frowns, fingers aching to bury themselves into the golden retriever's coat. He finds himself out of his chair and limping over to the gorgeously soppy creature.

Dean shuts the door and turns to watch. Jess replies gently and patiently. "He's not just any dog, Sammy. He's special, just for you. A service dog to help with your PTSD."

Sam takes the leash from her, stooping to slide his fingers into thick golden fur. "Does he have a name?"

"She." Jess corrects, smiling warmly as she leans against Charlie's side. "Her name is Sadie."

"Sadie... I like it. C'mon Sadie, you can come for cuddles!" Sam clicks his tongue and limps hurriedly over to the couch, persuading the dog to jump up and snuggle with him.


	39. Chapter 39

bring him and Dean closer together. She even encourages Sam to leave the dorm and actually attend classes. His attention span is slowly growing, and whenever he feels it start to slip, a quick stroke through fluffy fur is enough to ground him again.

The end of their last semester looms upon them, and final exams hang heavy in the forefront of everyone's mind. Even Sam, who is currently curled up in bed with Dean, Sadie laid by his feet, his notes nestled in his lap. Dean is taking a breather from reading, head resting on Sam's shoulder, content to just watch his loved one.

Sam pauses mid-sentence and turns his head to meet Dean's loving gaze. "I think we should move in together. When we graduate. I really want you to meet my family."

Dean reaches out to lace their fingers together. "Slow down babe. You'll run out of steam." He chuckles playfully, lifting Sam's hand to press a tender kiss to the warm skin.


	40. Chapter 40

Graduation day finally approaches and Sam can taste the anxiety in the air. They've all worked so hard for this, fingers trembling as they reach for that last hurdle. The make or break situation that means they've won at life. Only Sam knows that he's already won.

Dean is his prize. His Richard Gere; not-so-silver-haired knight in shining armour. Dean is his everything, his reason for living. Man, he can't wait to bring Dean home to mama.

Sam yawns and glances over at the alarm clock on the beside dresser, reaching down to stroke Sadie's soft ears as she rests her head on Sam's thigh. Dean isn't laid beside him, probably already up and preparing for the day. Sam can practically smell the coffee calling to him.

With a soft click of his tongue, Sam slips out of bed, bare feet stealthy as he half creeps, half limps his way out of their shared bedroom, Sadie trotting after him.

Dean is leant over the island counter, perfect little ass poking out in a teasing manner. Sam can't help but give it a firm squeeze as he approaches, catching Dean off guard and is rewarded with a rough moan. The noise makes Sam swell in his sleep pants.

"Good morning, baby." Dean greets, rocking back to meet Sam's shovel-like hands. "It's good to see you up so early."

"Mhmm. That's not all thats up..." He smirks, pressing Dean's hips against the counter and lazily rocks his dick in the curve of said ass. 

Dean groans gruffly and grips onto the countertop until his knuckles whiten, bowlegs spreading in a clear invitation. "Gimme ten minutes and I'll willingly join you." 

Sam laughs breathily against Dean's neck, lips latching onto the warm side of a slightly scratchy throat. "You need to shave."

"Mhmm. Why, my man-scruff hurting your virgin-skin?" Dean teases, rocking subtly back. Sam mewls at the slow, grind up the length of him.

"Just because I can't grow a decent beard.. I'm hardly a virgin. Neither are you." He seizes Dean's hips and pulls him forcefully back, one hand sneaking around to palm him through soft cotton briefs. "These are unsexy. We need to go shopping."

Dean's hips stutter forward. The noise he is rewarded with is delicious. "Or I could always go commando..."

"Nggh. God, Dean!" Sam can't stand it any longer, tugging Dean's briefs down in one fast go. "The coffee can wait. I want you right here and now!"

Dean's ass visibly clenches against the rush of cool air. "With the dog watching?" He looks a little hesitant as he cranes his head to peer over a shoulder.

"Sadie doesn't know what we're doing, and she isn't going to hump your leg babe." Sam chuckles, slowly dropping to his knees behind his boyfriend. Dean makes an undignified noise but doesn't shuffle away.

"We don't even have any lube in here.." He weakly protests, forearms bracing on the countertop as he leans forward some more.

"Sadie can fetch that from the bedroom." Is Sam's cool reply. Dean scoffs as the absurdity of it, but doesn't say anything in way of protest. Sam gives her a command, not quite expecting her to understand. He even points her back towards the bedroom, mildly surprised when she trots away.

"If she brings it to you, I will let her into my Baby." Dean murmurs in disbelief. Baby is Dean's car: a 1967 black Chevrolet Impala, and she's his very pride and joy. Sam has never seen someone so attached to their car. Dean had inherited her as an 18th birthday present from his father.

Sam makes a soft knowing sound and rubs the backs of Dean's thighs at they wait. "You'll eat your own words, Dee." He leans in to kiss the swell of one pert ass cheek. Dean scoffs lightly and reaches for his mug. "I swear to God, if you think you're gonna try and drink coffee while we're having sex, I am not taking you to the hospital when you manage to burn your dick!"

"I'll have you know that I'm a good multi-tasker!" Dean protests, reaching down to rub himself while they wait for the dog. As absurd as that is. Sam is tempted to slap Dean's hand away.

"Giving head while I'm playing a video game doesn't count Dean." Sam counters, covering Dean's hand with his own, as they lightly pump Dean's cock.

"Mmmh. I like to watch what you're playing too.." Dean lets his head come forward, watching their hands at play.

"Oh, so that's why I have to pause my games?" Sam fondly replies, sucking a bruise in the meat of Dean's delectable ass.

"Can't help that I get a little distracted..." Dean murmurs, most likely biting his plush lips. Sam's arousal stokes a little hotter at the thought. "You're the best distraction though."

Sam gently bites the bruise, delighted to hear Dean hiss softly. "I'm glad you say that, because I'd have to withhold any sweet treats I know you like."

He hears Sadie bark and the telltale clicking of claws as she re-enters the kitchen, and he sits back on his heels to look at her. "Here girl!" He calls, praising her with a big hug when she does as told. And there in her mouth, is a tube of lube. "What a clever girl!"

Dean turns to take a look for himself, eyes widening in reaction. "Well shit, she can do my shopping!" He kneels to make a fuss of her, burying his face into thick fur.

"No swearing in front of our furbaby!" Sam chides, taking the tube from her. "Go and lay in your kennel, Sadie. Atta girl." Sam sends her to the crate in the corner, not wanting to be jumped on by an excitable dog.

"And you, young man, go and lay on the couch!" He gives Dean's ass a quick slap and hauls them both up off of the kitchen floor.

Dean moseys on over to the couch, easing down onto his back, head and ass supported by the couch cushions. Sam giggles softly and carefully joins him. "Do you want me to top, or do you wanna be on top?"

"I'm fine like this baby. You're not squishing me." Dean reaches out to rub Sam's flank lovingly, spreading his legs to accommodate them both. Sam smiles and leans down for a longing kiss. This will be their first time since the whole hospital thing, Sam is unwilling to think about that at all.

"I got you, Sammy. I'm right here." Dean soothes, before resuming the kiss, reaching between them to caress Sam's dick. Sam groans thickly into Dean's mouth, deepening the kiss as he feels the rush of desire.

Dean, for all intents and purposes, tries his hardest to keep things slow, even when Sam pinches a nipple, much to Sam's dismay.

He presses the discarded tube back into Sam's palm though, lifting a leg to hook over the couch back. "Come on then, big boy. Always so impatient."

Sam flicks the cap and squirts a generous amount into his hand, slick sounds greeting the silence of the room as he coats his fingers. The first digit that wriggles home, makes Dean groan with appreciation; tight pucker clenching in response. Sam aches at the feel and against his need to speed things along, slowly preps Dean.

Three fingers later, and Dean has soon changed his mind, writhing and whimpering beneath him. "Please, Sammy. Need you right now!" And of course, Sam would sell his soul to give whatever his Dean needed. He quickly slips back to smear his aching dick with some lube, before lining up to press in.

Dean's head tips back on the cushion, raspy garbled noises tumbling from his throat as Sam breaches him. He looks utterly wrecked and so needy that Sam almost feels pitiful.

"I gotcha." Sam returns, bracing his weight on his forearms as he slowly works himself in to the hilt, breath whooshing from both of their lungs as Sam bottoms out.

 

"Bitch, you'd better move." Dean growls, giving Sam's ass a hard smack. The noise seems to ring in Sam's ears, and the pleasure/pain of it jolts him into action.

The pace is vigorous, hard enough to make Dean grow steadily louder. The couch gives a creak beneath them, and Sam thrusts enthusiastically, making his own noises of satisfaction.

Dean's hot breath gusts on his sweaty neck, hands gripping Sam's hips so hard that there'll be a bruise tomorrow. Not that he minds in the slightest. Any sign that he belongs to Dean is a-ok.

Even though it's certainly been a while, Sam knows that given the pace, he isn't going to last long. The couch has skittered along the wooden floor, and he's pretty sure that their neighbour has just turned their TV off in favour of listening in. The kinky shit.

Dean seems to key into that titbit and jerks himself in time with the hard piston of hips. "Ohhh! Come on, Sammy! Right there!" He moans in true pornstar fashion, and Sam fucking blows his wad, unable to hold on. His hips stutter as he rides out his climax, hand taking over for Dean, and Dean's cry as he lets go, is so filthy Sam finds himself coming for a second time.

There's a muffled cheer from next-door, and the pleasantly exhausted pair chuckle softly. Sam eases down onto Dean, making no attempt to move away just yet.

He pants against Dean's neck as he slowly regains his breath, heart still hammering in his chest. Dean's spunk coats their chests and bellies, just starting to cool off. It'll require a shower afterward, but Sam would settle for a clean washcloth ran over his heated skin instead. He may even manage to persuade Dean back into bed for another few hours of sleep.

"I love you." Sam whispers against Dean's throat from where he's nestled up. Dean's cheeks are ruddy and flushed with pink, almost the same colour as his lips.

"I love you too, darling. Always."


	41. Chapter 41

parents have taken an Uber to the airport to fly home, Sam and Dean pack their duffel bags into the trunk of Dean's car in preparation of making the 1711 mile road trip to San Antonio, Texas. Sam's birthplace. 

The ever resourceful Sam has worked out that it'll take them roughly 24 hours of constant driving, but that would be unwise to do, so they're planning to stay in motels along the way.

Sam turns to hug Charlie and Jess, who'd packed them a hearty lunch for the day, and he promises to Skype them whenever he can. Misha receives a soft kiss to the cheek and Sam wishes him all the best with his new girlfriend. Totally called it on that one. Meg was a lovely girl.

Dean adjusts Sadie's service dog jacket and lets her into the backseat, carefully attaching the doggy seatbelt Charlie had bought them. He even rolls down the window to a suitable height for her. "Hope you like classic rock, kiddo."

Sam gives everyone another final hug and reluctantly clambers into the front. He's going to miss them, but he'll arrange to meet up with them fairly soon. Friends are very much like family to him, and he isn't going to abandon them. Not ever.

"You ready to go?" Dean slides into the front with him, turning the key in the ignition as he fastens his seat belt. Sam has the cooler in the footwell, not trusting Sadie enough to stay out of their lunch.

"Always. I hope you like food, because my grandma loves to bake." Sam chuckles, rolling down his own window as Dean pushes a cassette into the player.

For the first time in months, Sam is truly excited to go home, and he cannot wait.

"I think I'm gonna love your granny." Dean admits, carefully accelerating out of the parking lot and down the road to exit campus. Sam doesn't look back, for fear of missing his friends even more.

"I think she'll love you too. It's grandpa you have to watch out for. He's a big whiskey drinker. Absolutely loves the stuff and he'll challenge anyone to try and beat him."

Dean laughs and adjusts the stereo volume. "Sounds perfect. Hope he'll finally meet his match!" He reaches out to lace their fingers together, keeping one hand on the wheel as they trundle along.

"I hope so too. Though I think I've found a keeper..." 

"Is that so?" Dean muses, pausing his humming to Foreigner. "I'm glad to be of importance." He jokes, lifting Sam's hand to kiss it.

"I wanna marry you." Sam blurts out, watching Dean's reaction with giddy excitement. Dean almost slams on the breaks, green eyes wide with surprise.

"Not if I do it first."

 

Sam sits there, speechless. His heart is beating double quick, palms a little sweaty and more than a little breathless. There's a slight tremor in his left hand, which Dean squeezes gently to keep him calm. 

"Breathe, baby." Dean soothes lovingly, glancing over to check Sam is okay. Sam loves how protective Dean has become. It's so much better than the stubborn young man that he had to tutor. He'd hate to get into a fistfight with him. Apparently Dean had a mean right hook.

Sam exhales slowly, feeling the tension fizzle away. There are butterflies in his stomach, excitement bubbling up through him. "I love you."

"I love you too, darling." Dean reluctantly withdraws his hand in order to control the car. Sam shuffles closer to rest a hand on Dean's thigh. "Are you tired? I can make a quick stop for Sadie. It's getting warm today."

Sam glances in the back to find their baby with her head out of the window. Her tail wags happily when she sees him looking. "She's loving it so far, but we can look for somewhere with grass for her to pee on."

Dean nods and turns off down a side road. They're just coming through the city, but there's a little park nearby that they can have a quick break before hitting the road again. "That's fine. Gives me a chance to go too. Can't stand to drive on a full bladder."

Dean parks up ten minutes later, turning the engine off as he exits the car. Sam watches him stride along to the public toilets nearby, and busies himself with Sadie. "Hey baby girl. Are you liking our little road trip?" He unfastens her doggy seatbelt and takes hold of her lead.

The day looks promising, blue sky with hardly any clouds in sight. There's a soft breeze lingering, but despite that, it is bone-meltingly warm. Not hot enough to feel sticky, it's just right.

He shuts the car doors after grabbing a chilled bottle of water and a plastic travel bowl for Sadie to drink out of. They step out onto grass and Sam kneels to pour her a refreshing drink, left hand stroking her fur comfortingly.

He's a little anxious about being in the open, especially with Dean out of sight, but knows that Sadie is there to help him, should he have a meltdown. Standing upright, he swigs from the bottle, hazel eyes scanning the small park suspiciously.

He doesn't venture too far away from the car, keeps himself on edge as he waits for Dean to return. Should be anytime now... Why hasn't he shown up yet? Maybe he's ran off... No that would be stupid. The car is still here. Sam checks just to be sure. 

The impala gleams under the sunshine, Sam can see his panicked reflection. He hates how easily he falls into negative thoughts. Sadie nudges his trembling hand with her velvety soft muzzle, hot tongue licking at his palm. Sam lets out the breath he didn't know he was holding.

Her tail is wagging and Sam looks up to see Dean approaching them, wiping his hands down the front of his thighs. Sam can't help but grin at that bowlegged walk.

"Hey precious." Dean greets, ruffling Sadie's ears playfully. "You wanna hit the head before we leave?"

"Yeah. You gonna come with?" Sam worries his lip and watches Dean stoop to pick the empty bowl back up.

"I'll follow wherever you lead me."

"Soppy bugger."

When they eventually stop for the night, Sam lets Dean choose the motel. So long as it's not clown themed..

Sam waits in the car, currently curled up in the back with Sadie, and doesn't bother to stifle his yawn. It's late and he should be taking his pills soon. Hopefully, Dean can sort out a room for them that allows service dogs... Sam doesn't fancy sleeping in the car otherwise.

The night is warm and all he wants to do, is to have a nice cold shower to soothe his overheated skin. He remembers to text his mama where they've settled for the night.

His eyelids droop as he waits for Dean. Nearly asleep when his boyfriend comes to open the car door. "C'mon sleepyhead. Got a nice big vibrating bed for your back." Sam really doesn't want to move, but that sounds divine.

He groans softly and cracks open his eyes upon Dean's hand carding into his hair, slowly shuffling out onto the parking lot, Sadie following close behind. He reaches for the cooler while Dean shoulders their bags, locking Baby securely before they walk the short distance to their motel room.

As soon as the door is locked, Sam stumbles towards the bedroom and flops down onto the bed. A quick glance to the control box, and Sam lets out a whine. "Dean, it takes quarters..."

Dean muscles his way into the bedroom, dumping the bags on the floor out of tripping hazards. "Nonsense. I got a trick for that."

Sam lifts his head from the soft memory foam cushion and takes one look at Dean's shit-eating grin, instantly deciding that it can't be any good, whatever Dean has planned. "I really hope that you aren't going to damage the machine, because I don't wanna pay for it."

"Nah. Don't you worry 'bout that. I'm just gonna unscrew the front and keep feeding the quarters back in. Then when we leave, we'll have some change for gas!" Dean exclaims proudly, looking mighty pleased with himself.

"You make me worry... It's like living with a child, yet they have more impulse control than you do!"

Dean merely snorts and kneels beside the bed, Sam rolls onto his side to watch. "You're gonna need a screwdriver for a start." He rolls his eyes in disbelief when Dean withdraws a black leather case from his duffle. "You gotta be kidding me.." He's even more incredulous when it turns out to be a set of lock picks, and a wicked looking flip-knife. 

Dean chuckles and sets to work on loosening the screws. Sam decides that he doesn't even want to know where the hell he'd gotten such items, and rolls back over, starfishing on the bed.


	42. Chapter 42

He must have fell asleep because Dean's hands disturb his slumber. The bed is pleasantly vibrating and Sam attempts to go back under.

"I'm sorry baby, just wanna get you undressed for bed. C'mon, your pills are here." Sam lifts his head, with the gentle aid of Dean's hand behind his skull, and opens his mouth willingly. He's careful to wash them down with the cold water as provided, managing not to choke in the process, before he sinks back down.

Dean is slow and careful as he strips Sam down to his boxers, though he seems a little hesitant. "Do you need to have your cream rubbed in tonight, or can it wait until morning?"

Sam merely grunts and spreads his thighs to coax Dean on. He's so close to drifting back off, why can't Dean just be quiet? He shivers at the sudden exposure to the air, a gentle probing finger traces the slowly healing scar tissue at his perineum and anus. The soothing slick of his prescribed cream is most welcomed.

He doesn't feel his boxers being pulled back up, or the covers being pulled over him, but he notices when Dean shuffles in beside him. Can smell his warm presence. Heh. Sounds like a candle fragrance..

Dean gently encourages him to roll onto his side, happy to be the big spoon, even though Sam is steadily growing to become much taller than him. Must be the pills.


	43. Chapter 43

They eventually arrive to Sam's family home, after a hectic drive. There'd been more traffic than anticipated, and Sam had a meltdown in the car. Everything was sorted now though. The sight of home was enough to ease his terrified brain somewhat.

They park up and scramble out to get their bags, ambling down the drive to the porch where Sam's grampa is sipping whiskey. Sam checks his watch and follows Sadie up to meet him.

"You're starting early, pops." Sam chuckles, stepping up onto the wooden porch to give his grampa a big hug.

"Look at you! Stanford has treat you brilliantly! Taller than your daddy now!" Samuel Campbell, Sam's grandfather, whom he was named after, is a balding, but certainly not short by any means.. The Campbell men were tall by nature, Sam just happened to be exceeding that.

"I missed you guys so much!" Sam pulls back to introduce him to Dean. "Pops, this is my boyfriend, Dean.." He's a little nervous, but knows he's enthusiastically accepted by his family.

"Does he like whiskey?" Is his grandaddy's first question, and Sam know's they'll get along just fine.

"I certainly do, sir. Even brought you a bottle." Dean manages to shake Samuel's hand, easily holding their two duffels with his free hand.

"That's a boy! Come on in!" Samuel turns to lead them inside, calling out to the other family members inside. "Guess who's just came home?!"

There's a soft shriek of delight which has Sadie barking, and the sound of rushing feet as Sam's mama and grandma come through the lounge doorway.

"Baby boy! Did you smell your grandma's cooking?!" Deanna Campbell, his beloved granny, hurriedly pulls him into a tight hug. "We missed you so so much!" Sam lets go of Sadie's lead, though she's attached to his belt, to give a better hug.

"I missed you too." Sam hurriedly wipes away the tears, and turns to hug his mama. "Mama.." He sobs, burying his face against her neck.

"It's okay sweet-one, you're home safe now. We won't let anything happen to you, I promise." Mary Campbell is an angel in disguise, managing to comfort her only son, as well as moving him to sit on the couch.

Dean is still standing to one side, wondering where to put their bags. "There'll be fine for now, son." Samuel reassures him with a smile. Dean returns one of his own and eases the heavy duffels to the floor.

He hesitantly moves to join Sam on the couch, shyly reaching for Sam's hand to hold. Deanna makes a soft cooing sound has Dean's cheeks turning a wonderful pastel pink. "Would you like come cherry pie, sweetheart? Sammy's told me that it's your favourite." He enthusiastically accepts.


	44. Chapter 44

Sam lazes by the pool, soaking up the sun's warm rays. He's listened to his mother's strict advice and worn sunblock and shades. Better to to as she asks. He's learnt that the hard way.

Dean is swimming leisurely, encouraging Sadie to jump into the cool water with him, though so far she doesn't seem to be buying it. Sam laughs to himself and can't help but smile at the thought.

"You thinking about me?" There's a sudden, whiskey voice in his ear and he shivers pleasantly. Finds Dean's lips on his without even having to open his eyes.

When they part for a breath Sam murmurs contentedly. "Always have you on my mind." He opens his eyes to peer through the protective shade, running a hand through Dean's wet hair. "I love you."

"I love you too, beautiful boy. Now, you gonna swim with me?" Dean lightly splashes him, snickering quietly.

"In a while." Sam protests, cupping his palm to splash a small wave back at Dean, who proceeds to tug Sam into the water. "Dean!" He exclaims, resurfacing and shaking the water from his hair.

They'd been helping prep the vegetables for their thanksgiving dinner that morning, and were taking a short break. Sam didn't want to stay outside too long, as there were football games on the TV.

"A little water ain't gonna melt you." Dean crows playfully, splashing Sam again before swimming another lap of the pool. Sadie barks and dives in, splashing water everywhere, and doggy paddles after Dean.

Sam swims for a little while, before clambering out to towel himself off. "Don't be too long in there babe." He lightly cautions Dean, before padding up towards the kitchen.

There's a mouth-watering scent of cooking turkey wafting throughout the house, and Sam's belly rumbles hungrily. "Mama, is there anything to eat?" He questions with a hopeful tone as he sets his towel on the counter, where his grandma proceeds to lightly scold him.

Sam ducks his head, abashed at being caught out. Truth is, he's become a little lazy and he's used to Dean's almost compulsive tidying. "Sorry grams." He murmurs, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously.

His mama merely shushes him and slides a cookie his way. Feeling triumphant, he kisses her cheek before scurrying off to his room to change into comfortable clothes.

It's not two minutes before Dean hurtles up the stairs. Sam can hear his heavy footfalls, and slight panting. He stops dead in the doorway, emerald green eyes staring at the cookie in Sam's hand.

"What's that?!" He exclaims in slight offence, giving Sam such an adorable pout, that he almost considers sharing. Almost.

"It's a cookie." Sam replies nonchalantly, taking a huge bite out of the chocolate chip treat, eagerly watching Dean's next reaction.

"I can see that! Where's mine?" Dean takes a step towards him, and Sam takes one back to even out the distance between them.

"You'll have to ask my grandmother. She's the one that's been baking. I'm sure if you're a sweet little boy, she'll soon be won over." He giggles gleefully around his mouthful, accidentally spraying a few crumbs in Dean's direction.

Dean pretends to sulk, instead drops his swim shorts onto the carpet and closes the door behind him. "If you're not gonna share, then I'll just have to sit here and touch myself."

Sam's mouth goes dry and he almost chokes on his cookie. It's too late to offer it up now. He knows that Dean has a stubborn streak that's almost as big as his dick. Actually, he'd say it was bigger than that. He couldn't even measure how big Dean's ego was either.

Dean's already sat on the bed by this point, flipping open the lube cap as he slowly teases himself into hardness. Sam can feel his own groin stirring in response. Cookie neglected, he abandons it on the bedside dresser and leans against the wall to watch.

Dean wriggles back against the headboard to make himself comfier, palming his growing dick with a slicked up palm. Sam attempts to stifle a groan, wanting nothing more than to be between Dean's legs, tongue on soft velvet hard skin.

He widens his legs slightly to make room for his obvious boner, eyes glued to Dean. His heart pounds against his ribs as Dean reaches down to stroke his balls, thumb smearing clear slick over smoothly shaven skin. Watches as two fingers slip further, teasing around his pucker. Even though Sam can't see it properly, he knows by the telltale jerk of Dean's hips.

"Fuck, baby. Please let me help you..." Sam whines, trying his best not to crumple forward onto the bed. His resolve is usually weak when Dean is directly involved.

Dean shakes his head, smirking widely as he slowly sinks the digits past the tight ring of muscle. Sam's ears ring with Dean's soft groans. He's sure the noise is amplified over the rushing of blood in his veins.

"Dean..." He whines, taking a step toward the bed, trying his best to look appealing. Dean doesn't fall for it however, just continues to fuck himself on his fingers.

Sam's dick gives a hard twitch and he has to press the heel of his hand to the tent in his swim shorts in an attempt to calm it down. He'll lose his mind at this rate.

Seemingly unbothered by his boyfriend's minor distress, Dean jerks his dick with his free hand, head tipped back to rest on the headboard, pale throat bared submissively.

Sam really can't take anymore, and tugs his shorts off before climbing aboard the bed. Not giving Dean a chance to protest, he flattens out onto his belly; mouth pressing heated kisses to the inside of Dean's thighs, nibbling higher until he reaches the dribbling crown of his lover's shaft.

He laps experimentally at the clear beads gathered there, tasting salt and musk. Emboldened by Dean's whimpers, he suckles on the head, tongue wriggling slowly to tease the sensitive underside. Dean's hands, very predictably, snare into Sam's hair, effectively holding him in place.

Sam carefully pulls Dean's wrist, withdrawing the man's fingers to replace with his own. The hot clench that greets him has Sam rutting into the mattress.

"Fuck, Sammy..!" Dean curses, head thrashing from side to side. Sam chuckles softly around his mouthful, sending pleasant vibrations down the length, which has Dean squirming some more.

"Quit your teasing and fucking screw me!" Dean demands none too quietly, giving Sam's hair a slight pull. Sam's eyes roll back and he groans pleasurably, pumping his digits in an attempt to stretch Dean.

He pulls off with an obscene sounding pop and wets his slick lips. "Roll over then. Gonna make you bite your pillow." Sam promises, pressing in another finger as he scissors Dean open.

"Fuck, yes! Give it to me, Sammy!" Dean is scrabbling to find purchase on the bed, and Sam curls his fingers before pulling away to watch Dean flip over.

He gives that delicious ass a quick slap and reaches for the lube to coat his dick with. Dean's skin is covered with wonderful rose pink flush, lightly quivering with a need that Sam cannot wait to fulfil.

Dean obediently bites the corner of his pillow, widening his stance a little so that his ass is raised. Sam can see how his balls hang invitingly and reaches down to fondle them, shuffling forward to rub his dick up the crack of Dean's ass.

He teases Dean a little more, noting the desperate tone when Dean rocks sinfully back against him, and seizes a rough hold on his hips. "You gonna take it for me, baby? Show me how much you're made to for my cock." He presses a hot kiss to the back of Dean's neck as he pushes the crown in.

The sudden clench of muscle makes his eyes roll and he has to stifle a groan that threatens to alert the whole house. Dean's own burst of noise is muffled by the pillow, and Sam licks the skin where he's going to mark up.

A shiver rolls down Dean's spine, which Sam is sure he felt travel up his dick, and he hurries to suck and bite a mark on Dean's neck. Dean writhes beneath him, ass pushing back to slowly sink down Sam's dick: inch by inch.

His heart is hammering against his ribs, breath stolen away by the feel of Dean's inner walls hugging him tight. It feels so good that he never wants this moment to end. Of course, that isn't possible, and he pulls back to screw in a little further, gaining more leeway with each thrust.

When he bottoms out, he's sure that he'd cream right then and there if he tried to move. He lets Dean adjust, trailing his fingers down Dean's sides as he waits for them both to relax again.

Dean is practically quaking by now, a fine sheen of sweat covering his freckled shoulders. Sam reaches between his thighs to stroke Dean's dick, easing back to initiate that first hard thrust in which he's going to pound Dean with.

He drives home and sends Dean skittering up the bed by an inch, bed creaking beneath them as he becomes merciless with his gratification.

Dean ruts unashamedly back against him, hips driving into Sam's huge fist as he chases the friction he's so desperately seeking. It's animalistic, the way they're behaving; rough grunts and slapping flesh filling the once silent room.

Sam revels in the combined heat of their bodies, pressing down a little heavier on Dean so that he can fuck harder. He's surprised that the bed has managed to hold out so far. It would be highly embarrassing if it broke on them.

Dean seems to forget to bite the pillow and his hoarse whimpers greet Sam's ears, speech unintelligible by this point. Sam doubles his efforts, wanting to see Dean walking a little stiffly the following day. His balls are heavy, tight with the need to come, and his dick throbs so hard that he has to muffle his moan against Dean's neck.

Jerking Dean's dick harder, he bucks his hips as hard as he can, losing tempo as he climaxes in one huge spectacular rush. Dean spurts fiercely in response, coating the bed, his belly and Sam's hand in hot white stripes, before sagging onto the bed.

Sam remains where he is, easing them both onto their sides without sliding out as they ride out their highs in a dazed, panting silence.

After a quick shower and dressing in more family friendly clothing, the pair make their way back downstairs, joining Sam's dad and grampa in the lounge. Both men are sat in the armchairs, which leaves the couch free for Sam and Dean.

Sam is delighted that the Cowboys are playing, and judging by the whiskey that both his elders are drinking, so are they. Dean is happy to oblige in their games, and Sam is more than happy to remain sober and watch.

By halftime, Dean is tipsy; one arm slung over Sam's shoulder, futilely attempting to remain upright, but judging by the shifting weight bearing down on him, Sam thinks he's failing at that.

The other two men have wisely made the decision to stop drinking, and seem to be plying Dean with more alcohol then they think Sam isn't looking. As much as Sam would like for Dean to get drunk, they haven't eaten dinner yet. The last thing he wants is Dean passing out in his mash potato.

Sam intervenes and calls for his grandmother, who promptly confiscates the bottle and the whiskey cabinet key. Dean predictably sulks with him then, lurching up and off of the couch. His bowlegged walk is much more exaggerated because he can't walk in a straight line, and Sam can't help but giggle.

His mama comes in to see what the fuss is all about and covers her mouth to hide a wide grin. Dean decides that now is a good idea to try and pull Sam's grandma in for a dance.

"Easy there, cowboy!" Samuel cheers from his seat. "You'd best do that with your boy."

Sam blushes fiercely and coughs awkwardly. He'd never came out to his grandparents, his mama had told them, and he was eternally grateful for their support. It could have ended much worse.

It's at this moment when Sadie enters the lounge, promptly dropping the tube of lube at his mama's feet, that Sam wishes he could just disappear.

"Can she bring skin mags too?" His dad jokes, laughing at Sam's obvious embarrassment. In a way, it was kinda funny. Sam would rather not have the mental image his father had provided though...

"He'll have a strong coffee please, grams." Sam hurries to pocket the tube and calls Sadie over. He'd never scold her, not in a million years, but he couldn't have her bringing unconventional items without command.

Sam attempts to get Dean sobered up by the time dinner is ready, offering his boyfriend cup after cup of strongly brewed coffee. It's worked a little, and he hopes that a large dinner will help soak up the whiskey in Dean's gut.

Talk at the table is animated, full of laughter and generally good cheer. They discuss Sam's time at Stanford, wisely staying clear of the kidnapping incident, and ask him about his career plans. Sam admits that he'd like to become a writer, but would look for a job that would earn him a decent wage first.

The same question is directed to Dean, to which he simply replies. "Cars, man, cars. Big ol' classic beauties." Which earns some light-hearted laughter. Sam's dad even points Dean in the direction of a few good companies, though Sam reckons Dean won't remember them later.

They slowly progress through dinner and onto dessert. Dean has three helpings, much to Deanna's delight. Sam only has one, and politely excuses himself to go and take his pills, calling Sadie after him.

The rest of the afternoon is pleasantly calm, with everyone heading to their rooms for a nap, which sounds just perfect for Sam, who'd like nothing better to cuddle up to Dean.

Sam whispers in Dean's ear before he falls asleep, spooning the shorter man for once. "I love you, beautiful."

Dean gives a soft grunt, already slipping under. "Love you too, gorgeous." It's so soppy that Sam's belly curls with butterflies.


	45. Chapter 45

They've been settled down for a month when Sam notices that Dean is acting a little strange. There's something he can't quite put his finger on, and it's whirring around in his brain all day long.

Dean is reserved, quiet. He's hardly said a word this morning, save for a rather sad smile over breakfast. Sam thought it was about leaving Stanford, but it's got to be more than that.

"Are you homesick?" Sam asks as he's brushing the knots out of Sadie's coat, she'd been shedding everywhere, typical working dog coat. He was deeply concerned for his lover, not yet fiancé. He'd hoped that Dean would have popped the question by now, but he wasn't going to push Dean into it if he wasn't ready.

He'd had doubts that Dean didn't want to settle down with him, sure they'd moved in together, but even friends did that sometimes.

Sam plans to Skype the girls later, just to get their opinions on the matter. He hopes that he's just being paranoid.

Dean is stretched out on the couch, huddled under a red tartan blanket, controller in his hands. No doubt playing some shoot 'em up again. There's a soft cursing and Dean shuffles to sit upright, brows furrowed as he concentrates.

Sam glances towards the screen and back to Dean's face, grinning to himself. "Something the matter love?" He can't hide the amusement in his voice.

"Cas just one-shotted me!" Dean exclaims, throwing down his controller, thankfully it lands in his lap. Sam didn't want an emotional fallout if the controller had broken.

Sam lets Sadie move away as he pushes to his feet, padding over barefoot to Dean. Stooping down to press a soft kiss to the man's lips, he strokes Dean's cheek tenderly. "Relax, baby. You can always give it another go."

He stretches bodily as he straightens back up, running a hand through his almost shoulder length hair. Dean seemed to enjoy pulling on it when they fucked. Who was Sam to deny his lover that pleasure?

"I'm gonna go for a relaxing bath and Skype the girls after." Sam announces, encouraging Sadie to sit on the couch with Dean, before he hobbles his way to the bathroom. He decides that it's best to leave Dean to his own devices, give the man some personal time for once.

Perhaps Sam is being too clingy.. He's unsure and it's making his head hurt. Sighing softly, he turns on the bathroom light and drapes his towel over the heated rail to warm up, while he runs a hot bath. Pouring himself a generous measure of bubble-bath, he proceeds to empty his bladder before undressing.

The air is scented with lavender and Sam remembers that trip with Castiel to the lavender fields. It seemed so long ago, yet he can hardly believe it had happened. Guilt washes over him as he wonders if the other man had seen him as a potential long-term partner.

Sam really hopes that Cas has found that with Meg. He'd hate himself for upsetting his friend. Rubbing his temples, Sam closes the toilet seat and sits down; one foot dangling over the filling tub, toes wriggling playfully in the water.

He's made up his mind to ask Dean what is going on, but he'll have to figure out how to best approach the matter. Sam has a tendency to over-share on his feelings, especially when Dean wants to keep the 'chick-flick moments' to a minimum.

When the bath is to his liking, Sam turns the taps off and sinks down into the foamy water, sighing contentedly at the heat. He rests his head against the back of the tub and idly presses his toes to the cold side of the tap.

In the peaceful silence of the gloriously heated bathroom, he can just make out Dean swearing animatedly. He chuckles to himself and pictures his boyfriend's mad victory dance with Sadie close by his heels. Sam vows to buy him a headset for Christmas, that way he can trash talk Castiel some.

Christmas. Sam's favourite time of year. He'd not had the chance of going out to shop for presents yet. The thought of doing so just seemed too daunting, even though he has Sadie for support. He'll online shop instead. Far easier.

He plans to decorate the house with Dean on his next day off. Get a real tree and hang it with tinsel and baubles, and candy canes. It'd be a challenge keeping Dean's wandering hands away from them though. Probably only manage that for a week and then they'd have all been devoured.

He'll get his grandma's gingerbread recipe and his mama's turkey and stuffing. He's got an inkling that they're going to be invited over for Boxing Day dinner. Sam wants to make sure that Dean has a chance to go and visit his family too. He's yet to meet Dean's mama, and he's incredibly nervous about that one...

What if they don't know that Dean is gay, and they think Sam is just there as a friend? Or worse, what if they kick them out of the house? Sam shudders at the thought and distracts himself by singing. There's a slight delay, before Dean overhears and echoes Sam's lines.

After Skyping with Charlie and Jess, Sam is amazed that they're still together, he decides to confront Dean about his concerns. Dressed in his sleep pants and bathrobe, Sam pads barefoot into the lounge and hesitates by the couch.

Dean glances up from his prone position and pauses his game without a second's notice. "What's wrong?" He sounds worried, and Sam can't blame him. This can only seen as foreboding.

"We need to talk.." He waits for Dean to sit upright, before sitting down beside him, reaching for Dean's hand. "You've been quiet lately and I've been worried about you... What's going on?"

Dean looks a little relieved at that, most likely thought that Sam was breaking up with him. "Have an anniversary coming up... My mama passed away when I was a little kid.." Sam can hear the pain in Dean's voice and pulls him in for a tight hug.

"I'm so sorry, baby. When is it? We can take flowers down for her." He couldn't bare to imagine what that loss felt like.

"Christmas eve.." He whispers hoarsely, on the verge of crying as he buries his face into Sam's neck. "I wish she could've met you. You've saved my life, Sammy."

Sam can feel his heart breaking with sorrow, there are tears spilling from his eyes and he holds Dean tighter. "Me too, Dee. You've done the same for me. You know that right?" He pulls back to kiss away Dean's tears, hazel eyes meeting dark green.

"I didn't want to say anything cos I knew it would upset you, and I don't like to see you cry." Dean admits, sniffling a little as he tries to pull himself back together. "I wanted this Christmas to be a good one. It's our first together."

Sam nods, brushing Dean's cheek gently, heart aching for this beautifully sad man. "I know baby. I wanna make it special for you."

Dean shakes his head. "It already is, because I have you."


	46. Chapter 46

Sam has a book written that is due to be finished come the spring. Dean had been a huge help when it came to encouraging him to write, and Sam was thankful for that.

Dean had managed to find a job that involved restoring classic cars, and was currently working under a man called Bobby Singer. The two got on well together and Sam was more than happy to hear the day's events when Dean came home.

They had one setback while watching late night TV. Dean had flicked onto the 1989 Batman movie, the one with Jack Nicholson, and Sam instantly freaked out.

"Sammy, what's the matter?" Dean reaches out to keep him still on the couch, almost earning himself a glancing blow to the cheek. Probably earned it really... "It's just Batman."

Sam can't quite catch his breath, heart pounding almost painfully in his chest. "It's got Jack Nicholson in it." He wheezes, signalling Sadie to come so he can bury his fingers in her fur. It eases the pounding somewhat, though his chest still feels tight.

"Yeah..? He's just a crazy mime, Sam." Dean's clearly not getting the point, probably confused by the fact Sam usually enjoys Nicholson's films.

"Clown, Dean. He plays The Joker. A. Fucking. Clown." Sam tries not to snap, really he does, but Dean needs to be a little quicker.

Dean's face goes a little pale, and he scrambles for the remote to hurriedly turn over. "Dude, I'm so sorry..." He finds a nice nature documentary about Moose.

Sam finally lets out a huge sigh of relief and curls up to Dean, seeking affection. Everything is suddenly okay again. Panic over and the past momentarily forgotten.

Dean buys a TV listing magazine when he goes out to work the next day.


	47. Chapter 47

The run up to Christmas seems to blur by, and it's three days to go when they finally get around to decorating the house, tree included. Sam is sure to take some photographs for future remembrance, especially when Dean looks so happy.

He's baked gingerbread cookies that morning, and is keeping a stern eye on Dean to make sure he's not stealing any when they're supposed to be cooling. He's already caught him with a candy cane.

He's done his present shopping and had them wrapped and hidden out of sight. No doubt his troublesome duo would find them before Christmas Day.

Dean is actually wearing a Christmas jumper, much to Sam's delight, and is acting quite festive. Sam makes sure to take a photo to send out to friends and family. They even sit down for a family photo, which is lovely. Sam can't help but imagine future christmases with two small children. And perhaps a puppy.

Sam curls up on the couch with a book, reading intently while they listen to Christmas songs playing over the radio. He's more interested with Dean's rendition, which sometimes ends up being adult themed.

Sadie is quite happy to fetch her ball that Dean rolls carefully down the hallway, tail wagging a mile a minute as she insists that he keeps the game going.

There's been snow forecast but Sam isn't too worried as it doesn't last long. He really wants to get Dean out to take flowers to his mama's grave. He's gonna make sure that she gets the biggest bouquet they've ever seen. Wants to make her proud of him.

Dean joins him on the couch not too long after, seemingly tired of rolling a ball repeatedly. Sam can't blame him, Dean's been stuck up a ladder for the best part of the morning. His arms have got to ache.

"Whatcha reading, baby?" Dean rests his head on Sam's shoulder to peer into the open book.

"A Christmas carol." Sam replies evenly, not tearing his eyes away from the book, though he does offer a hand to be held.

"That with the penny-pinching miser?"

Sam snorts with laughter, smiling fondly at Dean's way of expressing himself. "Ebenezer Scrooge. Yes, that's the one."

"I'd shit the bed if three ghosts ever decided to scare the crap outta me." Dean comments, huddling closer to read the page Sam is currently on.

"Not with me in there I hope. That would be disgusting." Sam comments dryly, leaning back slightly to let Dean read along with him.

"I'd fight them off for you. Don't you worry about that. Do you think we could ghostbuster their ass?"

"Dean, honey. Ghosts don't have asses."

"They must do! They were human once!" Dean is adamant about his theory. It's nice to see him so passionate about something. Even if it doesn't exist.

"Have you been watching ghost hunting shows again? You know that they're sound effects. What'll it be next, UFO's?"

Dean huffs lightly and steals a kiss, just to quieten Sam. He knows he's lost the argument. "You want a coffee?"

"Please, babe. Oh, and no stealing any gingerbread. It's not ready yet!" Sam warns, lifting his eyes to give Dean a pointed stare as the man makes his way to the kitchen.

"Can I decorate some when they are?" He calls out to Sam, halfway to his destination by now.

"Depends. Are you gonna draw dicks on them, like you did that cake I baked?" Sam can't help but smirk at that. He'd sent a photo to Charlie and Jess, who agreed that Dean should professionally decorate adult themed cakes.

"You want tits too? I think I can manage those..."

"Oh for the love of God... NO DEAN!"


	48. Chapter 48

There's no snow come Christmas Eve, which is fortunate, as they're having to drive down to Dallas early that morning. Sam doesn't fancy being stuck in a car with snow falling.

They're up earlier than usual, Sam making heated thermos flasks of strong coffee while Dean turns the car engine over. The flowers were laid carefully in the trunk, out of the way from a curious Sadie.

Once he was sure that the house was suitably locked and secure, Sam walks Sadie out and lets her into the backseat. Dean fastens her seatbelt in record time and makes sure that the window is up. It's a little chilly this early.

When they're all secured and comfortable, Dean drives off. There's Christmas songs playing as usual and Sam finds himself singing along this time, happy to be in the company of his loved ones.

It takes them four and a half hours to get there, which is lucky considering the traffic wasn't that bad. It'll probably take them longer to get back.

Sam is hungry when they reach town, but Dean doesn't stop off for them to find food. He's more concerned with delivering these flowers. So he should, Sam is proud of him.

They halt outside of the cemetery gates, before walking down the winding path. Dean holds the flowers and Sam holds Sadie's leash. The air is a little chilly for this time of day, a sure sign that snow is on it's way. Sam is willing to bet that they'll have snowfall tonight.

It's so peaceful here that Sam doesn't dare speak. It feels wrong to disturb the silence, save for a few songbirds chirping in the trees dotted about the graveyard.

Sam can't help but feel sad for all the lives lost, but he notices that there are tokens of remembrance all around them; teddies, bouquets, plants, ornaments. Sam's heart aches with feel sympathy.

He follows Dean around a corner and along a row, until Dean has stopped mid-stride and knelt down on the damp grass. Sam is painfully aware that he's standing over Dean's beloved mother's final resting place. He wants to mourn for a person he's never met, wants to thank her for bringing his soulmate into the world.

A soft cooing pulls Sam out of his thoughts and he catches a sudden flash of white. Confused, he slowly kneels down beside Dean and gently nudges his boyfriend. "Dee, look up. Very very slowly..."

Dean frowns but lifts his head as directed and breathes out in shock. Sat no more than a few inches away, is a white dove. Her beady black eyes are fixed attentively upon them. 

He recalls that doves are symbolic for divinity and love, but also are also seen as signs of sacrifice, heavenly messengers and maternal protection. He's blown away by this realisation and hopes that Dean remembers their symbolism topic back in English studies.

"Mom..." Dean whispers fragilely, reaching out tentatively to stroke the bird's soft snowy plumage. The dove coos to them and doesn't even flinch when Dean's fingers touch her fluffy breast of feathers. Sam can feel the tears creeping from the corners of his eyes.

"Momma, I miss you so much... I hope you're proud of me, and that you're still watching over me." Dean carefully lifts the bird off of the stone carving and holds her in his palm. "This is Sam, my kindred-spirit. He's my everything, and I know you'd adore him as much as I do." 

Dean breaks down into fits of sobbing and Sam wraps his arms around him in a tight protective hug. "She is proud of you, darling. She loves you so, so much." It hurts his soul to see him like this.

Dean lifts the bird up to press a soft kiss to her head, greeted by almost loving like coos. "I love you, mom. I'll never forget you." He strokes the bird one final time and gently sets her back on the tombstone.

Sam hands him the bouquet and presses a soft kiss to his pink flushed cheek. It's a beautiful thing for them to have seen, even though it's made them both incredibly sad.

Dean gulps down his sobs, managing to pull himself back a little, and lovingly lays the flowers down on the grass. Sam gives him more time, and heaves himself to his feet, leg aching painfully. He'll take his painkillers when they stop for breakfast.

He limps over to a bench nearby and cradles Sadie's head in his lap, fondling her ears. He keeps a watchful eye over Dean, ready to be there for support.

When Dean finally stands and turns to find Sam, his eyes are red and puffy. Sam's heart feels like a million pieces right now. He wishes they could take that damn bird home, just to see Dean smile, but of course, symbolism isn't going to bring his mother back.

The ride into town is bittersweet, but Sam knows that Dean feels a little better for visiting the cemetery. They head to a drive through before continuing with their journey home.

They arrive home a little later than they expected, but at least they've eaten. Even if it was only greasy burgers and fries.

Sam lets Sadie back into the house and removes her service dog harness, hanging it up by the front door. He's a little chilled and thirsty, so the first stop is the coffee machine.

Dean presses a quick kiss to Sam's cheek as he passes, cheekily stealing a gingerbread cookie, and heads to the lounge. Hopefully he'll light the fire for them, and perhaps put the telly on.

Sam yawns again and rubs his eyes, leaning against the counter as he waits for the coffee to brew. Once finally ready, he fills two mugs and takes them into the lounge.

Dean has already demolished his cookie and is cuddling Sadie on the couch. It's such an adorable sight. Sam joins them and holds out Dean's mug. "You two are so damn cute." He sips from his mug and stretches his legs out, toes warming by the fire.

"Nah. You're the cute one." Dean counters, enjoying his own drink. The sky outside is almost white, a sure sign of snow on its way. Sam's never had a white Christmas. It's kind of exciting to think about. Though perhaps they should have a holiday in Canada one Christmas. He gives Dean a gentle nudge and points to the window, grinning widely over his mug. "I tell you, the reporters are gonna get it right this year!" After finishing their drinks and having a nice cuddle on the couch, Sam pulls Dean into the kitchen to start preparing tomorrow's Christmas dinner. They're having a turkey breast, seeing as there's only the two of them, and Sadie of course. Sam delegates the sprout duty to Dean, hands him a pan and paring knife, before turning his own attention to the carrots. They peel and chop in companionable silence, making the occasional joke about each other's mystery gifts. Once the veggies have been done, Sam quickly emails his grandma regarding how long the turkey needs. Dean takes the opportunity to steal another cookie, Sam watches him take a huge bite, green eyes wide and innocent. He lays the pan with foil before popping the turkey in the oven, doesn't bother to put the heat on, just leaves it as is. It shouldn't take too long to defrost in the morning. They scrub their hands clean and tidy the kitchen before returning to the lounge. A glance to the clock confirms that it's only late afternoon, nowhere near bedtime yet. It's going to be a long night... He curls up with Dean to watch a Christmas movie, and then an action film. Just to balance things out, Dean reasons. Yeah... Nothing like presents and violence. After that, Dean decides to Skype his dad and step-mom, thus giving Sam a chance to meet his family. Sam is a little nervous, but he's already met John Winchester. It's his wife, Ellen who he's really getting to know. Oh, and Dean's step sister, Jo. They are wholly supportive of Sam. John admits that he didn't even know that Sam was gay, and jokes that he's succeeded as being a matchmaker, if albeit an unknowing one. Dean mentions they'd seen a dove when visiting his mama at the cemetery, and John smiles wistfully, immediately understanding the hidden meaning. Sam also mentions that they'd like to visit the day after Boxing Day, if that would be perfectly fine with them. They eventually hang up the call. It's getting towards eleven PM, and though Sam is a little tired, he could easily unwind with a good book in bed. Dean turns the TV off, switches on the lamps and makes sure that the fire is properly out, before locking the front door for the night. Sam takes Sadie out in the back yard for a wee, and asks Dean if he could get him a glass of water for his pills. When he re-enters the house, after locking the back door and turning off all downstairs lights, he calls Sadie to heel and makes his way upstairs to their bedroom. Dean has the glass and box of prescribed pills on the dresser waiting for Sam to take. Presumably, he's getting ready for bed, judging by the running water coming from their adjoining bathroom. Sam pops his pill, washes it down with water, before joining Dean. He brushes his teeth while the other man empties his bladder, occasionally sneaking glances his way. Dean finishes up and flushes, washes his hands at the sink, and strips naked to go and find his pyjamas. Sam can't help but look at his ass on the way past. Sam hurriedly follows suit, making sure that his bladder is good and empty, because he really doesn't want to wake up too much during the night. Dean has his pyjamas waiting already and Sam can't help but smile as he pulls them on. "Thanks babe." He murmurs, grabbing his book before joining his boyfriend in bed. Sadie watches them, before settling down in her own bed across the room, out of harm's way. Dean is a bundle of excited energy, and Sam knows that it's highly unlikely that Dean will fall asleep straight away, so he decides to read to him. It seems to work, after two hours... Sam carefully slides the book under the bed, so he won't trip over it in the morning, and turns the bedside lamp off, before laying down to carefully cuddle Dean. It doesn't take him long to drift off.


	49. Chapter 49

Dean bounces on the bed at such an ungodly hour that Sam wants to throw a pillow at him. It's Christmas morning, and Sam liked to sleep in. It was clear that Dean did not.

He groans his displeasure and tugs the blankets over his head in an attempt to block out the excited twenty four year old, who it seemed, was trying to damage their box springs.

"Stop..." Sam drawls, muffled from his safety cocoon. "Wanna sleep some more... 'S too early."

"You can sleep later. C'mon Sammy. You're already awake!" Dean drops down to crawl over the length of Sam, wriggling against him impatiently.

"Only because your fat ass woke me up!" He gripes, whining loudly in protest though Dean doesn't listen.

"My ass isn't fat. It's curvy."

Sam snorts in disbelief. "Bring me coffee and I may consider letting you open one present."

Dean leaps off of the bed and charges out of their room, Sadie barking excitedly as she gives chase. Sam laughs once and cuddles Dean's vacated pillow. Some grown man he turned out to be.

He must have drifted back off because Dean is relentlessly prodding him awake. Sam utters a foul curse word and rolls over to avoid Dean's strong fingers.

"Sammy...!" Dean whines petulantly, very much like a small child. Sam groans and allows Dean to rip the covers away from his head. Sam rolls onto his back and slowly sits up against the headboard. Blinking away the sleep, he lets his eyes adjust before reaching for his coffee.

"What time is it?" Sam's voice is thick with sleep; a little hoarse and gritty. He can't understand how chirpy Dean can be after just waking.

"Five-thirty." Is Dean's breezy reply as he sits cross-legged in the middle of the bed, eagerly inviting Sadie up to cuddle with him.

"Have you slept at all?" Sam asks incredulously, taking in Dean's ruffled bed hair and excited grin. He wonders if a blow job would send Dean back to sleep.

"I can catch up on sleep this afternoon." Dean counters, cradling Sadie in his arms like an overgrown baby. Sam has to admit, that seems like a good idea...

"Fine. C'mon then. But promise me you won't keep me up this afternoon?" Sam swings his legs out of bed and slowly stands, making his way to the bathroom first.

Dean makes a quiet noise of triumph and Sam can hear his feet thump lightly on the floor. He really wished that Dean didn't treat their furniture as an obstacle course. The big kid.

Dean is not patient in the slightest, perking around the doorframe as he watches Sam per. Heck, he even offers to hold Sam's dick, which is just a no-no at this time in a morning. Sam takes his time and finishes up.

It's nearly half past six by the time they head downstairs, Dean in the lead, Sadie close behind. Mountains of presents greet them, much to Dean's delight. Sadie's too, judging by her bouncing through the neat stacks, managing to keep them standing upright.

Sam chooses to sit on the couch, not wanting to hurt his leg by sitting on the floor. Dean sits cross-legged at his feet, handing Sam's presents over.

It takes the pair almost three hours to open all of their gifts. Both of them had splurged out and treat each other. They watch Sadie open her toys, laughing fondly at her playful growling as she tears through the wrapping paper.

One of Sam's more novelty presents, is a packet of brownie mix. He understands the reference and rolls his eyes at Dean's dry humour.

After another three mugs of coffee, Sam watches Dean set up his Xbox and load up a new game Sam had bought him. Dean leans carefully against Sam's legs as he plays, and Sam strokes through his bed hair, making soft praise whenever Dean succeeds at something.

It's a wonderful start to Christmas Day, Sam has to admit. "Merry Christmas, Dean. I love you."

"Merry Christmas, Sammy. Love you too."

Afternoon rolls around and they sit at the kitchen table for their dinner, Christmas carols playing on the TV in the lounge. Dean comments on how nice Sam's cooking is and sips at his glass of wine. Sam had opted for a non alcoholic drink, what with his meds, but enjoyed the company with Dean nonetheless.

After dinner, Dean washes the pots and dries them. Sam is thankful for the help and cuts Dean a slice of Christmas cake, which he'd iced with the words "Fuck You" after discovering that Dean enjoyed Arnold Schwarzenegger films.

Dean crows delightedly and takes a photo on his phone, before tucking in wholeheartedly to his slice. Then inspiring that they watch Raw Deal, and Red Heat. And Total Recall... Sam guessed that maybe they weren't going to have a nap this afternoon after all.

Dean hands Sam a smaller wrapped box when they'd settled back down on the couch, and Sam's hands tremble with nerves as he fumbles to unwrap the paper.

A small blue velvet box greets him, tiny and light in his palm, and for one brief moment, Sam thinks that it's going to be some sort of trick. That is until Dean slides off of the couch and drops to one knee.

Sam's heart tries to escape out of his chest and he hurriedly flips the lid open, gasping in shock at the silver engagement ring. "Samuel Campbell the third, will you do me the great honour of becoming my husband?"

Sam claps a hand over his mouth and lets out a sob of delight, nodding his head frantically. "Yes, Dean! YES!" He watches Dean slide the ring onto his finger and then drags him up for a huge hug. Sadie thinks it's a game and charges over to join in, barking happily.

Of course, both of their families are over the moon when they reveal their big secret, congratulating them both on such a good accomplishment. Sam can't believe it's finally happening, after everything they've been through.


	50. Chapter 50

The two families come together at New Year's Eve, Sam's mama generously made space for Dean's family to stay the night. Dean buys her roses as a thank you from their local florist, before they drive to the Campbell residence.

Sam watches Dean as he drives, content to study his fiancé. "I love you." He whispers, stroking Dean's thigh tenderly. He can't believe how lucky he is to have met his soulmate.

"I love you too, sugar." Dean replies, reaching down to hold Sam's hand. "Can't wait to marry you." Dean's cheeks are pink, a little embarrassed, but he's getting used to sharing his feelings without too much complaint. 

"Me too, honey." Sam giggles, turning the radio on for them to listen to. Dean makes a face at that, so Sam roots about in the cardboard box of tapes that was hidden under the seat.

"When are you going to move onto CDs, Dean? You'll wear out these old things. And mullet rock, really?" He teases, fishing through the cassettes.

"Hey! Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole!" Dean protests defensively, easily picking a tape out of the assortment, and slides it into the player.

"Drama queen..." Sam mutters playfully, returning the box to where it came from.

"Just because I take crap from you, doesn't mean I'm the queen. You're the domestic one." Dean argues, adjusting the volume. Sam thinks it's so he won't continue the playful fight they're having.

"You take it up the ass, you mean. Charlie always said you'd be the power bottom in desperate need for a good dick!" Sam laughs when Dean's face flushes beet red.

"She really said that? I'll get her back when we meet up." Dean mutters, staring intensely out on the road, while he tries to control his blushing.

"Yeah, yeah. Mr. Big shot. I'm sure she'll have some sort of comeback ready for when you do." Sam laughs, leaning back against the bench seat to watch the passing houses.

"Promise you'll kiss me at midnight?" Sam asks tentatively, glancing over to make sure that Dean isn't ignoring him.

"Sammy. I'll kiss you no matter what. Even if they've still got mistletoe hung up."


	51. Chapter 51

.....

Sam and Dean's first date night is unusual to say the least. It's hardly romantic, but it's good fun, and something that they're both interested in.

It's a classic rock themed party on New Year's Day not ten minutes away from their home. Sam has even come off of his pills for the day, just so he can drink to welcome the new year properly.

With any party comes fancy dress, and Sam very happily watches Dean shave his legs at the bathtub, lotion ready to give his fiancé's legs a rubdown after. They have Dean's cassettes playing for moral support.

"Can't say I've ever felt the need to shave my legs." Sam comments, unscrewing the lid to sniff the contents. He has to admit, the clean shaven look is suits Dean just fine.

"That's because you're an every day mountain man." Dean retorts, rinsing the plastic razor under the stream of hot water. "Man, this is taking forever!" He complains, waving the offending tool practically under Sam's nose.

"Sit down on the toilet, I'll do it. You big queen." Sam chides him most lovingly, giving up his seat in favour for kneeling on the bathmat. Dean takes his place and sits down, cautiously offering a half shaven leg, foot resting on Sam's thigh.

He plucks the razor away and sets to work in long, precise sweeps. He's much quicker than what Dean is, soon moving onto the other calf before leaning back. "You need to stand up and turn around for me. I need to get the backs of your legs." Dean makes a soft grumbly noise and does as he's told. Sam resumes his process and rubs Dean's legs with the lotion when they're done.

Sam watches Dean admire the pale skin for the barest of moments, before he steps around him to pull his costume on.

Dean is going as Gene Simmons from Kiss. Sam has to admit the black leather pants leave nothing to the imagination: tight material clinging in all the right places, and slightly accentuating the bow of Dean's legs.

"You look damn sexy." Sam praises, taking his time to look his fiancé over. "Let me see that ass?" Dean laughs loudly and turns around to stick his ass out for inspection. "Beautiful." Sam groans, having a cheeky grope.

"Have you decided who you're going as?" Dean asks as he sits back down to pull the platform boots on his feet. Sam wonders if Dean would be able to walk in those, especially after last night at his parents' house. Dean had ended up terribly drunk and immense hilarity ensued. Including Dean trying to dance with every single person there, and Sadie.

Sam opts for simple clothing: denim blue Levi's, cowboy boots, an open v-neck style shirt and a headband. A pair of shades complete the look, and he backcombs his hair to finish it all off.

"You look like a handsomer Bon Jovi." Dean comments, coming over for a kiss. "You ready to hit the town baby?"

"Almost. Let me put Sadie's rock collar on and we're ready!"

The bar is not overly crowded, but there is a lively vibe as they walk in. Loud rock music greets them, along with delighted cooing noises as people move to fuss Sadie. Sam politely declines them from disturbing her though, seeing as she's a service dog.

They settle down with a beer, watching a few patrons have a go at karaoke. Sam insists in good spirits that Dean should go up. He giggles at Dean's facepaint as he frowns. "C'mon. Do it for me?"

Someone starts up a chant and Dean hurriedly gulps at his beer for courage. A young woman tells him that she'll go up for support. Dean laughs awkwardly and grips his beer tightly. Sam mentions to someone that whiskey is Dean's relaxant, and suddenly there are shots heading their way.

It practically turns into a drinking game, partiers egging Dean into letting his hair down, so to speak. Dean is too much of a party animal to turn down free alcohol.

There's an almighty roar of approval as Dean lurches up, teetering slightly on his platform boots, and climbs onto the tiny stage where the machine is. 

Sam videos it all for evidence to show the family. It's too good to pass up.

Dean ends up singing Meatloaf's 'It's All Coming Back To Me Now'. The song itself is nearly nine minutes long, and it's the best rendition Sam has ever heard, apart from the original and Celine Dion's. The whole bar joins in, to Sam's amazement, some even get up on the stage with Dean. There's even people holding up lighters.

Eventually, the song comes to an end and the applause Dean relieves is fucking amazing. There's drinks waiting for him when he gets back to the table. It seems that they've hit it off big time with the locals. They might just have to come again sometime.

They stay a couple of hours, not wanting to stress Sadie out too much. Before they leave, the bar staff hold a best dressed competition, and naturally, they get best dressed couple. Dean holds their trophy aloft, beaming with pride, and who is Sam to deny this adult child?

"Lets get you home, rock star." Sam chuckles, taking Dean's hand as they make the short walk home.

Best Christmas ever.


	52. Chapter 52

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read this fic.
> 
> I apologise if there was any text that had been doubled up, my iPod must have had a fit.
> 
> This is my first time writing for NaNo and I was doubtful about posting this.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! - Awnjay x

PROLOGUE: Christmas Eve the following year.

 

Sam smoothes down his white tailored suit jacket and sips from the glass of scotch he's nursing, hazel eyes scanning around the busy room. Happy people are chatting softly to each other, their voices blurring into unintelligible noise.

He feels lost in a sea of colour, stranded by endless bodies when all he wants to do, is get over to the bar, but judging by how many are frequenting there, it wouldn't be best of ideas.

There's a small band playing on the stage, mainly violins and acoustic guitars. The odd trumpet. While Sam would love to dance, he needs to find his partner first. Be a bit silly dancing by himself.

He manages to wade his way through the crowd, taking a deep pull of scotch to calm his nerves, encouraging Sadie to follow. His mama makes a beeline for him, easily guiding them to an unoccupied table.

"Thank you, mama." Sam smiles gratefully, leaning down to kiss her cheek tenderly, before he finds himself pulled into a tight hug.

"Congratulations honey! We're so proud of you! Your grandma is so thrilled to have her grandbaby finally married." As if on cue, grandma Campbell pulls him into yet another tight hug. His family are hugging machines.

"Have you seen him?" He finally gets around to asking, nervously toying with his wedding ring. He feels like the jilted bride left at the alter. Though he's married now, so that's a little redundant. Stop thinking of Richard Gere films! He mentally chides himself.

"He was having a drink with your daddy last, but that was at least fifteen minutes ago." His mama chuckles, sitting down at the table with his grandma.

Sam groans softly and downs his glass. "I really hope he hasn't drank dad under the table. Is grandpa with him too?" The two most important ladies in his life laugh softly.

The crowd finally parts around him as he hurries towards the bar. Spotting his aforementioned male role models, he joins them, setting down his empty glass.

"Is my husband up to his old tricks again?" He claps his hand on his grandpa's shoulder, grinning at the elder, knowing that he liked to make it a game when it came to drinking.

"Ah, Samuel! There you are! Care for another drink, young man? What'll it be this time, whiskey?" Sam laughs gently and nods.

He leans around his grandfather and looks to his father. "How much have you had? Have you seen my husband or not?" At this point, it feels as though they're not telling him something, and it's worrisome.

"A few. Relax, it's your wedding day. Well, night. You're allowed to have a few drinks." Sam's drink is slid across the bar, to which he hurriedly takes a deep sip, much to his grandaddy's delight. "He might have gone to talk to his folks. Have you checked with them?"

Now Sam feels a little foolish. No, of course he hadn't tried there. "Thanks dad. I'll see you in a while." He turns and beats a hasty retreat across the room, avoiding the dance floor.

Turns out his mother-in-law finds him first, hurriedly pulling him into a warm hug. Man, Sam is making up for all the loss of contact over the weeks he hasn't visited family.

"If you're looking for my son, which I'm guessing is why you're here, then I'm afraid I haven't seen him." Ellen smiles sympathetically, rubbing his forearm reassuringly. "Where's your mama?" He turns to point out her location, giving a little wave, and getting one in return.

Sighing he wanders dejectedly over to his sister-in-law. Well, half sister, if that still counts? She's dancing with a few friends but happily pulls him over. Sam dances with them, seeing as his husband is nowhere to be seen.

"So, when are you two adopting? I want to have a little niece or nephew!" Jo asks excitedly, not quite stepping on his toes.

"Shh. Our matriarchs would go into overdrive." He shushes her, glancing around as though they'd have possibly heard. "I'm not sure he's ready to make another big decision so soon."

Jo chuckles and takes a cheeky sip of his whiskey, before grimacing slightly.

"It'll put hairs on your chest!" He jokes good-naturedly, receiving a light elbow to the ribs.

"Yeah. Think I'll pass on that one!"

The music changes; the DJ seeming to have had a little too much to drink. Probably found his grandfather, Sam thinks. Britney Spears begins to blare out of the speakers, and naturally, Sam finds himself dancing with the girls.

He allows himself to become lost in the music, quite startled when a hard body grinds up behind him. A pair of hands slip down his hips and have a cheeky grope where they shouldn't.

Jo squeals and points a finger at her half-brother. "Save those moves for the bedroom, Dean Winchester!"

Sam's heart pounds in his chest and he whirls to come face to face with his husband. "Where have you been?"

Dean grins innocently, well, it would have been innocent if he wasn't dressed to kill. Sam's fantasies are being fulfilled, thank the gods! Sam runs a hand down the black tailored suit jacket and leans in for a slightly needy kiss, presently surprised when Dean kisses him soundly, much to the growing crowd's delight.

"I love you, beautiful." Dean murmurs into Sam's ear, stroking Sam's wedding ring tenderly. "What say we have one last dance and retire to our honeymoon suite?"

Sam laughs and strokes Dean's face adoringly. "Dean Winchester, you are the world's biggest nymphomaniac!"

"Yeah, but you still love me."

"Of course I do, honey. Come on, our families are expecting more than one dance you know." Sam tugs him to the centre of the dance floor.

Dean groans softly and holds his right hand, left resting on Sam's waist. "You have got to be kidding me? When am I to have you all to myself?"

"For the rest of our lives? Come on, Dean. Let our parents have one small indulgence." Sam rests his head on Dean's shoulder as they sway to the slow pace. "I have a feeling that they're expecting us to adopt."

Dean splutters softly and hurriedly regains his composure. "We'll find a surrogate mother. Want each of our kids to have our DNA."

Sam's heart skips a beat, joy bubbling up inside him. "Two? That sounds perfect." He catches a glimpse of his mama dancing with his daddy. "I can't wait to start my life with you."

Dean pulls Sam into a hug, quietly sniffling into Sam's shoulder. "Forever baby. I'll never let you go."

\- The End.


End file.
